a 


OFCAUFO&N* 
LOS  ANGELES 


THE   JOURNAL 


OF 


SIR   WALTER  SCOTT 

from  tbe  Original  flDanu0cript 
at  Hbboteforfc 


POPULAR    EDITION 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN    SQUARE 
1891 


STACK 


PREFACE 


ON  the  death  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  1832,  his  entire  literary  re- 
mains were  placed  at  the  disposal  of  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  John  Gibson 
Lockhart.  Among  these  remains  were  two  volumes  of  a  Journal 
which  had  been  kept  by  Sir  Walter  from  1825  to  1832.  Mr.  Lock- 
hart  made  large  use  of  this  Journal  in  his  admirable  life  of  his  father- 
in-law.  Writing,  however,  so  short  a  time  after  Scott's  death,  he 
could  not  use  it  so  freely  as  he  might  have  wished,  and,  according  to 
his  own  statement,  it  was  "  by  regard  for  the  feelings  of  living  per- 
sons "  that  he  both  omitted  and  altered ;  and,  indeed,  he  printed  no 
chapter  of  the  Diary  in  full. 

There  is  no  longer  any  reason  why  the  Journal  should  not  be  pub- 
lished in  its  entirety,  and  by  the  permission  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Max- 
well-Scott it  now  appears  exactly  as  Scott  left  it — but  for  the  correc- 
tion of  obvious  slips  of  the  pen,  and  the  omission  of  some  details 
chiefly  of  family  and  domestic  interest. 

The  original  Journal  consists  of  two  small  4to  volumes,  9  inches  by 
8,  bound  in  vellum,  and  furnished  with  strong  locks.  The  manuscript 
is  closely  written  on  both  sides,  and  towards  the  end  shows  painful 
evidence  of  the  physical  prostration  of  the  writer.  The  Journal  ab- 
ruptly closes,  towards  the  middle  of  the  second  volume,  with  the  fol- 
lowing entry — probably  the  last  words  ever  penned  by  Scott : 

by  one  of  the  old  Pontiffs  but  ivhich  I  forget,  and  so  paraded  the  streets  by  moonlight 
to  discover  if  possible  some  appearance  of  the  learned  Sir  William  Gell  or  the  pretty 
Mistress  Ashley. 

At  length  ice  found  our  old  servant  who  guided  us  to  the.  lodgings  taken  by  Sir 
William  Gell  where  all  was  comfortable  a  good  fire  included  which  our  fatigue  and 
the  chilliness  of  the  night  required.  We  dispersed  as  soon  as  we  had  taken  some  food 
and  wine  and  water. 

We  slept  reasonably,  but  on  the  next  morning 


iv  PREFACE 

In  the  annotations,  it  seemed  most  satisfactory  to  follow  as  closely 
as  possible  the  method  adopted  by  Mr.  Lockhart.  In  the  case  of 
those  parts  of  the  Journal  that  have  been  already  published,  almost 
all  Mr.  Lockhart's  notes  have  been  reproduced,  and  these  are  distin- 
guished by  his  initials.  Extracts  from  the  Life,  from  James  Skene 
of  Rubislaw's  unpublished  Reminiscences,  and  from  unpublished  let- 
ters of  Scott  himself  and  his  contemporaries,  have  been  freely  used 
wherever  they  seemed  to  illustrate  particular  passages  in  the  Journal. 

With  regard  to  Scott's  quotations  a  certain  difficulty  presented  it- 
self. In  his  Journal  he  evidently  quoted  from  memory,  and  he  not 
unfrequently  makes  considerable  variations  from  the  originals.  Oc- 
casionally, indeed,  it  would  seem  that  he  deliberately  made  free  with 
the  exact  words  of  his  author,  to  adapt  them  more  pertinently  to  his 
own  mood  or  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  In  any  case  it  seemed  best 
to  let  Scott's  quotations  appear  as  he  wrote  them.  His  reading  lay 
in  such  curious  and  unfrequented  quarters  that  to  verify  all  the 
sources  is  a  nearly  impossible  task.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  also, 
that  he  himself  held  very  free  notions  on  the  subject  of  quotation. 

I  have  to  thank  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Maxwell-Scott  for  permitting  me  to 
retain  for  the  last  three  years  the  precious  volumes  in  which  the  Jour- 
nal is  contained,  and  for  granting  me  access  to  the  correspondence  of 
Sir  Walter  preserved  at  Abbotsford,  and  I  have  likewise  to  acknowl- 
edge the  courtesy  of  His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  for  allowing 
me  the  use  of  the  Scott  letters  at  Dalkeith.  To  Mr.  W.  F.  Skene, 
Historiographer  Royal  for  Scotland,  my  thanks  are  warmly  rendered 
for  intrusting  me  with  his  precious  heirloom,  the  volume  which  con- 
tains Sir  Walter's  letters  to  his  father,  and  the  Reminiscences  that  ac- 
company them — one  of  many  kind  offices  towards  me  during  the  last 
thirty  years  in  our  relations  as  author  and  publisher.  I  am  also 
obliged  to  Mr.  Archibald  Constable  for  permitting  me  to  use  the  in- 
teresting Memorandum  by  James  Ballantyne. 

Finally,  I  have  to  express  my  obligation  to  many  other  friends,  who 
never  failed  cordially  to  respond  to  any  call  I  made  upon  them. 

D.  D. 

EDINBURGH,  22  DKUMMOND  PLACE, 
October  1,1890. 


SIR  WALTER   SCOTT'S   JOURNAL 


NO  V EMBER 

[Edinburgh,]  November  20,  1825. — I  have  all  my  life  regretted 
that  I  did  not  keep  a  regular  Journal.  I  have  myself  lost  recollection 
of  much  that  was  interesting,  and  I  have  deprived  my  family  and 
the  public  of  some  curious  information,  by  not  carrying  this  resolu- 
tion into  effect.  I  have  bethought  me,  on  seeing  lately  some  vol- 
umes of  Byron's  notes,  that  he  probably  had  hit  upon  the  right  way 
of  keeping  such  a  memorandum-book,  by  throwing  aside  all  pretence 
to  regularity  and  order,  and  marking  down  events  just  as  they  oc- 
curred to  recollection.  I  will  try  this  plan ;  and  behold  I  have  a 
handsome  locked  volume,  such  as  might  serve  for  a  lady's  album. 
Nota  bene,  John  Lockhart,  and  Anne,  and  I  are  to  raise  a  Society  for 
the  suppression  of  Albuhis.  It  is  a  most  troublesome  shape  of  men- 
dicity. Sir,  your  autograph — a  line  of  poetry — or  a  prose  sentence ! 
— Among  all  the  sprawling  sonnets,  and  blotted  trumpery  that  dis- 
honours these  miscellanies,  a  man  must  have  a  good  stomach  that  can 
swallow  this  botheration  as  a  compliment. 

I  was  in  Ireland  last  summer,  and  had  a  most  delightful  tour.  It 
cost  me  upwards  of  £500,  including  £100  left  with  Walter  and  Jane, 
for  we  travelled  a  large  party  and  in  style.  There  is  much  less  ex- 
aggerated about  the  Irish  than  is  to  be  expected.  Their  poverty  is 
not  exaggerated ;  it  is  on  the  extreme  verge  of  human  misery ;  their 
cottages  would  scarce  serve  for  pig-styes,  even  in  Scotland,  and  their 
rags  seem  the  very  refuse  of  a  rag-shop,  and  are  disposed  on  their 
bodies  with  such  ingenious  variety  of  wretchedness  that  you  would 
think  nothing  but  some  sort  of  perverted  taste  could  have  assembled 
so  many  shreds  together.  You  are  constantly  fearful  that  some  knot 
or  loop  will  give,  and  place  the  individual  before  you  in  all  the 
primitive  simplicity  of  Paradise.  Then  for  their  food,  they  have  only 
potatoes,  and  too  few  of  them.  Yet  the  men  look  stout  and  healthy, 
the  women  buxom  and  well-coloured. 

Dined  with  us,  being  Sunday,  Will.  Clerk  and  Charles  Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe.  W.  C.  is  the  second  son  of  the  celebrated  author  of  Naval 

1 


2  JOURNAL  [Xov. 

Tactics.1  I  have  known  him  intimately  since  our  college  days ;  and, 
to  my  thinking,  never  met  a  man  of  greater  powers,  or  more  complete 
information  on  all  desirable  subjects.  In  youth  he  had  strongly  the 
Edinburgh  pruritus  disputandi ;  but  habits  of  society  have  greatly 
mellowed  it,  and  though  still  anxious  to  gain  your  suffrage  to  his 
views,  he  endeavours  rather  to  conciliate  your  opinion  than  conquer  it 
by  force.  Still  there  is  enough  of  tenacity  of  sentiment  to  prevent, 
in  London  society,  where  all  must  go  slack  and  easy,  W.  C.  from  ris- 
ing to  the  very  top  of  the  tree  as  a  conversation  man,  who  must  not 
only  wind  the  thread  of  his  argument  gracefully,  but  also  know  when 
to  let  go.  But  I  like  the  Scotch  taste  better ;  there  is  more  mat- 
ter, more  information,  above  all,  more  spirit  in  it.  Clerk  will,  I  am 
afraid,  leave  the  world  little  more  than  the  report  of  his  fame.  He 
is  too  indolent  to  finish  any  considerable  work.4  Charles  Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe  is  another  very  remarkable  man.  He  was  bred  a  clergyman, 
but  did  not  take  orders,  owing  I  believe  to  a  peculiar  effeminacy  of 
voice  which  must  have  been  unpleasant  in  reading  prayers.  Some 
family  quarrels  occasioned  his  being  indifferently  provided  for  by  a 
small  annuity  from  his  elder  brother,  extorted  by  an  arbitral  decree. 
He  has  infinite  wit  and  a  great  turn  for  antiquarian  lore,  as  the  pub- 
lications of  Kirkton,*  etc.,  bear  witness.  His  drawings  are  the  most 
fanciful  and  droll  imaginable — a  mixture  between  Hogarth  and  some 
of  those  foreign  masters  who  painted  temptations  of  St.  Anthony, 
and  such  grotesque  subjects.  As  a  poet  he  has  not  a  very  strong 
touch.  Strange  that  his  finger-ends  can  describe  so  well  what  he 
cannot  bring  out  clearly  and  firmly  in  words.  If  he  were  to  make 
drawing  a  resource,  it  might  raise  him  a  large  income.  But  though 
a  lover  of  antiquities,  and  therefore  of  expensive  trifles,  C.  K.  S.  is 
too  aristocratic  to  use  his  art  to  assist  his  revenue.  He  is  a  very 
complete  genealogist,  and  has  made  many  detections  in  Douglas  and 
other  books  on  pedigree,  which  our  nobles  would  do  well  to  suppress 
if  they  had  an  opportunity.  Strangg  that  a  man  should  be  curious 
after  scandal  of  centuries  old !  Not  but  Charles  loves  it  fresh  and 
fresh  also,  for,  being  very  much  a  fashionable  man,  he  is  always  mas- 
ter of  the  reigning  report,  and  he  tells  the  anecdote  with  such  gusto 
that  there  is  no  helping  sympathising  wfth  him — the  peculiarity  of 
voice  adding  not  a  little  to  the  general  effect.  My  idea  is  that  C.  K.  S., 
with  his  oddities,  tastes,  satire,  and  high  aristocratic  feelings,  resem- 
bles Horace  Walpole — perhaps  in  his  person  also,  in  a  general  way.- 
See  Miss  Hawkins'  Anecdotes*  for  a  description  of  the  author  of  The 
Castle  of  Otranto. 

1  An  Essay  on  Naval  Tactics,  Systematical  '  Secret  and  True  History  of  the  Church  of 

and  Historical,  with  explanatory  plates.     In  Scotland  from  the  Restoration  to  the  year  1678. 

four  parts.    By  John  Clerk.    4to.    Loud.  1790.  4to.     Edin.  1817. 

*  William  Clerk,  of  Eldin.  the  prototype  of 
Darsie     Latimer    in    Redgauntlet,    "admired 

through  life  for  talents  and  learning  of  which  *  Anecdotes,  Biographical  Sketches,  and  Ate- 

he  has  left  no  monument,"  died  at  Edinburgh  moirs,  collected  by  Laetitia  Matilda  Hawkins. 

in  January,  1847.  8vo.    Loud.  1822. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  3 

No  other  company  at  dinner  except  my  cheerful  and  good-hu- 
moured friend  Missie  Macdonald,1  so  called  in  fondness.  One  bottle 
of  champagne  with  the  ladies'  assistance,  two  of  claret.  I  observe 
that  both  these  great  connoisseurs  were  very  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
agreed,  that  there  are  no  absolutely  undoubted  originals  of  Queen 
Mary.  But  how  then  should  we  be  so  very  distinctly  informed  as  to 
her  features  ?  What  has  become  of  all  the  originals  which  suggested 
these  innumerable  copies  ?  Surely  Mary  must  have  been  as  unfortu- 
nate in  this  as  in  other  particulars  of  her  life.2 

November  21. — I  am  enamoured  of  my  journal.  I  wish  the  zeal 
may  but  last.  Once  more  of  Ireland.  I  said  their  poverty  was  not 
exaggerated  ;  neither  is  their  wit — nor  their  good-humour — nor  their 
whimsical  absurdity — nor  their  courage. 

Wit. — I  gave  a  fellow  a  shilling  on  some  occasion  when  sixpence 
was  the  fee.  "  Remember  you  owe  me  sixpence,  Pat."  "  May  your 
honour  live  till  I  pay  you !"  There  was  courtesy  .as  well  as  wit  in 
this,  and  all  the  clothes  on  Pat's  back  would  have  been  dearly 
bought  by  the  sum  in  question. 

Good-humour. — There  is  perpetual  kindness  in  the  Irish  cabin ; 
butter-milk,  potatoes,  a  stool  is  offered,  or  a  stone  is  rolled  that  your 
honour  may  sit  down  and  be  out  of  the  smoke,  and  those  who  beg 
everywhere  else  seem  desirous  to  exercise  free  hospitality  in  their 
own  houses.  Their  natural  disposition  is  turned  to  gaiety  and  hap- 
piness ;  while  a  Scotchman  is  thinking  about  the  term-day,  or,  if  easy 
on  that  subject,  about  hell  in  the  next  world — while  an  Englishman 
is  making  a  little  hell  of  his  own  in  the  present,  because  his  muffin 
is  not  well  roasted — Pat's  mind  is  always  turned  to  fun  and  ridicule. 
They  are  terribly  excitable,  to  be  sure,  and  will  murther  you  on  slight 
suspicion,  and  find  out  next  day  that  it  was  all  a  mistake,  and  that  it 
was  not  yourself  they  meant  to  kill  at  all  at  all. 

Absurdity. — They  were  widening  the  road  near  Lord  Claremont's 
seat  as  we  passed.  A  number  of  cars  were  drawn  up  together  at  a 
particular  point,  where  we  also  halted,  as  we  understood  they  were 
blowing  a  rock,  and  the  shot  was  expected  presently  to  go  off.  After 
waiting  two  minutes  or  so,  a  fellow  called  out  something,  and  our  car- 
riage as  a  planet,  and  the  cars  for  satellites,  started  all  forward  at 
once,  the  Irishmen  whooping  and  crying,  and  the  horses  galloping. 
Unable  to  learn  the  meaning  of  this,  I  was  only  left  to  suppose  that 
they  had  delayed  firing  the  intended  shot  till  we  should  pass,  and  that 
we  were  passing  quickly  to  make  the  delay  as  short  as  possible.  No 
such  thing.  By  dint  of  making  great  haste,  we  got  within  ten  yards 
of  the  rock  when  the  blast  took  place,  throwing  dust  and  gravel  on 
our  carriage,  and  had  our  postillion  brought  us  a  little  nearer  (it  was 

1  Miss  Macdonakl  Buchanan  of  Drummakill.  vivcd  Sir  Walter  till  the  year  1851.     In  the  Sir 
— J-  «.  L.  Mungo  Malagrowther  of  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel 

2  Mr.  Rharpe,  whose  Letters  and  Memoir  were  some  of  Sharpe's  peculiarities  are  not  unfaith- 
published  in  two  volumes  8vo,  Edin.  1888,  sur-  fully  mirrored. 


4  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

not  for  want  of  halloqing  and  flogging  that  lie  did  not),  we  should 
have  had  a  still  more  serious  share  of  the  explosion.  The  explana- 
tion I  received  from  the  drivers  was,  that  they  had  been  told  by  the 
overseer  that  as  the  mine  had  been  so  long  in  going  off,  he  dared  say 
we  would  have  time  to  pass  it — so  we  just  waited  long  enough  to 
make  the  danger  imminent.  I  have  only  to  add  that  two  or  three 
people  got  behind  the  carriage,  just  for  nothing  but  to  see  how  our 
honours  got  past. 

Went  to  the  Oil  Gas  Committee1  this  morning,  of  which  concern  I 
am  president,  or  chairman.  It  has  amused  me  much  by  bringing  me 
into  company  with  a  body  of  active,  business-loving,  money -making 
citizens  of  Edinburgh,  chiefly  Whigs  by  the  way,  whose  sentiments 
and  proceedings  amuse  me.  The  stock  is  rather  low  in  the  market, 
35s.  premium  instead  of  £5.  It  must  rise,  however,  for  the  advan- 
tages of  the  light  are  undeniable,  and  folks  will  soon  become  accus- 
tomed to  idle  apprehensions  or  misapprehensions.  From  £20  to  £25 
should  light  a  house  capitally,  supposing  you  leave  town  in  the  vaca- 
tion. The  three  last  quarters  cost  me  £10,  10s.,  and  the  first,  £8, 
was  greatly  overcharged.  We  will  see  what  this,  the  worst  and  dark- 
est quarter,  costs. 

Dined  with  Sir  Robert  Dundas,*  where  we  met  Lord  and  Lady 
Melville.  My  little  nieces  (ex  officio)  gave  us  some  pretty  music.  I  do 
not  know  and  cannot  utter  a  note  of  music ;  and  complicated  harmo- 
nies seem  to  me  a  babble  of  confused  though  pleasing  sounds.  Yet 
songs  and  simple  melodies,  especially  if  connected  with  words  and 
ideas,  have  as  much  effect  on  me  as  on  most  people.  But  then  I  hate 
to  hear  a  young  person  sing  without  feeling  and  expression  suited  to 
the  song.  I  cannot  bear  a  voice  that  has  no  more  life  in  it  than  a 
pianoforte  or  a  bugle-horn.  There  is  something  about  all  the  fine 
arts,  of  soul  and  spirit,  which,  like  the  vital  principle  in  man,  defies  the 
research  of  the  most  critical  anatomist.  You  feel  where  it  is  not,  yet 
you  cannot  describe  what  it  is  you  want.  Sir  Joshua,  or  some  other 
great  painter,  was  looking  at  a  picture  on  which  much  pains  had  been 
bestowed  —  "  Why,  yes,"  he  said,  in  a  hesitating  manner,  "  it  is  very 
clever — very  well  done — can't  find  fault ;  but  it  wants  something  ;  it 
wants — it  wants,  damn  me — it  wants  THAT" — throwing  his  hand  over 
his  head  and  snapping  his  fingers.  Tom  Moore's  is  the  most  exqui- 

1  One  of  the  numerous  joint-stock  adventures  s  Sir  Robert  Bundas  of  Beechwood,  one  of 
which  were  so  common  in  Edinburgh  at  this  Scott's  colleagues  at  the  "Clerks'  Table" — son 
time.  There  had  already  been  formed  a  Gas-  of  the  parish  minister  of  Humbie.  and  kinsman 
light  Company  in  1818,  for  the  manufacture  of  of  Lord  and  I,;n!y  Melville;  lie  died  in  1  •-:;:.. 
gas  from  coal,  but  the  projectors  of  this  new  Some  of  the  other  gentlemen  with  whom  the 
venture  believed  they  could  produce  a  purer  duties  of  his  office  brought  Scott  into  rlose  daily 
and  more  powerful  light  by  the  use  of  oil.  It  connection  were  David  Hume,  Hector  Mae. Ion- 
was  not  successful  commercially,  and,  as  is  told  aid  Buchanan,  and  Colin  Mackenzie  of  Port- 
in  the  Journal,  the  rival  company  acquired  the  more.  With  these  families,  says  Mr.  Lockhart, 
stock  and  plant  a  few  years  after  the  formation  "he  and  his  lived  in  such  constant  familiarity 
of  this  "Oil  Gas  Co.,"  of  which  Sir  Walter  had  of  kindness,  that  the  children  all  called  their 
been  Chairman  from  1823.  father's  colleagues  uncles,  and  the  mothers  of 

Seeil/e,  vol.vii.  pp.  141.144,197,251,374;  and  their  little  friends  aunts;  and  in  truth  the  es- 

viii.  p.  113;  Cockburn's  Memorials  (for  1825).  tablishment  was  a  brotherhood." 


1825.]  JOURNAL  6 

site  warbling  I  ever  heard.  Next  to  him,  David  Macculloch1  for  Scots 
songs.  The  last,  when  a  boy  at  Dumfries,  was  much  admired  by 
Burns,  who  used  to  get  him  to  try  over  the  words  which  he  composed 
to  new  melodies.  He  is  brother  of  Macculloch  of  Ardwell. 

November  22. — MOORE.  I  saw  Moore  (for  the  first  time,  I  may 
say)  this  season.  We  had  indeed  met  in  public  twenty  years  ago. 
There  is  a  manly  frankness,  and  perfect  ease  and  good  breeding  about 
him  which  is  delightful.  Not  the  least  touch  of  the  poet  or  the  ped- 
ant. A  little — very  little  man.  Less,  I  think,  than  Lewis,  and  some- 
what like  him  in  person ;  God  knows,  not  in  conversation,  for  Matt, 
though  a  clever  fellow,  was  a  bore  of  the  first  description.  Moreover, 
he  looked  always  like  a  schoolboy.  I  remember  a  picture  of  him  be- 
ing handed  about  at  Dalkeith  House.  It  was  a  miniature  I  think  by 
Sanders,2  who  had  contrived  to  muffle  Lewis's  person  in  a  cloak,  and 
placed  some  poignard  or  dark  lanthorn  appurtenance  (I  think)  in  his 
hand,  so  as  to  give  the  picture  the  cast  of  a  bravo.  "  That  like  Mat 
Lewis  ?"  said  Duke  Henry,  to  whom  it  had  passed  in  turn  ;  "  why, 
that  is  like  a  MAN  !"  Imagine  the  effect !  Lewis  was  at  his  elbow.3 
Now  Moore  has  none  of  this  insignificance ;  to  be  sure  his  person 
is  much  stouter  than  that  of  M.  G.  L.,  his  countenance  is  decidedly 
plain,  but  the  expression  is  so  very  animated,  especially  in  speaking  or 
singing,  that  it  is  far  more  interesting  than  the  finest  features  could 
have  rendered  it. 

I  was  aware  that  Byron  had  often  spoken,  both  in  private  society 
and  in  his  Journal,  of  Moore  and  myself  in  the  same  breath,  and  with 
the  same  sort  of  regard ;  so  I  was  curious  to  see  what  there  could  be 
in  common  betwixt  us,  Moore  having  lived  so  much  in  the  gay  world, 
I  in  the  country,  and  with  people  of  business,  and  sometimes  with 
politicians  ;  Moore  a  scholar,  I  none ;  he  a  musician  and  artist,  I 
without  knowledge  of  a  note ;  he  a  democrat,  I  an  aristocrat — with 
many  other  points  of  difference ;  besides  his  being  an  Irishman,  I  a 
Scotchman,  and  both  tolerably  national.  Yet  there  is  a  point  of  re- 
semblance, and  a  strong  one.  We  are  both  good-humoured  fellows, 
who  rather  seek  to  enjoy  what  is  going  forward  than  to  maintain  our 
dignity  as  lions ;  and  we  have  both  seen  the  world  too  widely  and  too 
well  not  to  contemn  in  our  souls  the  imaginary  consequence  of  lit- 
erary people,  who  walk  with  their  noses  in  the  air,  and  remind  me 
always  of  the  fellow  whom  Johnson  met  in  an  alehouse,  and  who 

1  Mrs.  Thomas  Scott's  brother.  Ian  Cunningham,  "  that  he  thought  he  had 

*  George  L.  Sanders,  born  at  Kinghorn,  1774;  ne^r  ,fc,lt  su,ch  flation .,f  ,when  \  ^e  monlF  " 

died  in  I  ondon  1846  invited  him  to  dine  with  him  at  his  hotel." 

Lewis  died  in  1818,  and  Scott  says  of  him,  "  He 

3  Sir  Walter  told  Moore  that  Lewis  was  the  did  much  good  by  stealth,  and  was  a  most  gen- 
person  who  first  set  him  upon  trying  his  tal-  erous  creature— fonder  of  great  people  than  he 
ent  at  poetry,  adding  that  -'he  had  passed  the  ought  to  have  been,  either  as  a  man  of  talent 
early  part  of  his  life  with  a  set  of  clever,  rat-  or  as  a  man  of  fashion.  He  had  always  ladies 
tling,  drinking  fellows,  whose  thoughts  and  and  duchesses  in  his  mouth,  and  was  pathet- 
talentslay  wholly  out  of  the  region  of  poetry."  ically  fond  of  any  one  that  had  a  title.  Mat 
Thirty  year^ after  having  met  Lewis  in  Edin-  had  qucerish  eyes— they  projected  like  those 
burgh  for  the  first  time  in  1798,  he  said  to  Al-  of  some  insects,  and  were  flaUisb.  on  the  orbit." 


C  JOURNAL  1  N'ov. 

called  himself  "  the  great  Twalraley — inventor  of  the  floodgate  iron 
for  smoothing  linen."  He  also  enjoys  the  mot  pour  rire,  and  so 
do  I. 

Moore  has,  I  think,  been  ill-treated  about  Byron's  Memoirs ;  he 
surrendered  them  to  the  family  (Lord  Byron's  executors)  and  thus 
lost  £2000  which  he  had  raised  upon  them  at  a  most  distressing  mo- 
ment of  his  life.  It  is  true  they  offered  and  pressed  the  money  on 
him  afterwards,  but  they  ought  to  have  settled  it  with  the  booksellers 
and  not  put  poor  Tom's  spirit  in  arms  against  his  interest.1  I  think 
at  least  it  might  have  been  so  managed.  At  any  rate  there  must  be 
an  authentic  life  of  Byron  by  somebody.  Why  should  they  not  give 
the  benefit  of  their  materials  to  Tom  Moore,  whom  Byron  had  made 
the  depositary  of  his  own  Memoirs  ? — but  T.  M.  thinks  that  Cam  Hob- 
house  has  the  purpose  of  writing  Byron's  life  himself.  He  and  Moore 
were  at  sharp  words  during  the  negotiation,  and  there  was  some  ex- 
planation necessary  before  the  affair  ended.  It  was  a  pity  that  noth- 
ing save  the  total  destruction  of  Byron's  Memoirs  would  satisfy  his 
executors.8  But  there  was  a  reason — Premat  nox  alia. 

It  would  be  a  delightful  addition  to  life  if  T.  M.  had  a  cottage 
within  two  miles  of  one.  We  went  to  the  theatre  together,  and  the 
house,  being  luckily  a  good  one,  received  T.  M.  with  rapture.  I  could 
have  hugged  them,  for  it  paid  back  the  debt  of  the  kind  reception  I 
met  with  in  Ireland.3 

Here  is  a  matter  for  a  May  morning,  but  much  fitter  for  a  Novem- 
ber one.  The  general  distress  in  the  city  has  affected  H.  and  R.,4 
Constable's  great  agents.  Should  they  go,  it  is  not  likely  that  Con- 
stable can  stand,  and  such  an  event  would  lead  to  great  distress  and 
perplexity  on  the  part  of  J.  B.  and  myself.  Thank  God,  I  have 
enough  at  least  to  pay  forty  shillings  in  the  pound,  taking  matters  at 
the  very  worst.  But  much  distress  and  inconvenience  must  be  the 
consequence.  I  had  a  lesson  in  1814  which  should  have  done  good 
upon  me,  but  success  and  abundance  erased  it  from  my  mind.  But 
this  is  no  time  for  journalising  or  moralising  either.  Necessity  is 
like  a  sour-faced  cook-maid,  and  I  a  turn-spit  whom  she  has  flogged 
ere  now,  till  he  mounted  his  wheel.  If  W-st-k6  can  be  out  by  25th 
January  it  will  do  much,  and  it  is  possible. 

1  Moore's  friends  seem  to  have  recognized  fact. "  —  Clayden,  Rogers  and  his  Contempora- 

his  thorough  manliness  and  independence  of  ries,  vol.  i.  p.  378. 

character     Lord  John  Russell  testifies:  "  Nev-  3  Moore's  Life  of  Byron  was  published  in  two 

er  did  he  make  wife  or  family  a  pretext  for  po-  vols.  4to  in  1830,  and  dedicated  to  Sir  Walter 

litical  shabbiness— never  did  he  imagine  that  Scott  by  "his  affectionate  friend,  T.  M."    See 

to  leave  a  disgraced  name  as  an  inheritance  to  this  Journal  under  March  4, 1828. 

his  children  was  a  duty  as  a  father  "  (Memoirs,  *  "I  parted  from  Scott,"  says  Moore,  "with 

vol.  i.  pp.  xiii  and  xiv),  and  when  Rogers  urged  the  feeling  that  all  the  world  might  admire 

this  plea  of  family  as  a  reason  why  he  should  him  in  his  works,  but  that  those  only  could 

accept  the  money,  Moore  said,  "More  mean  learn  to  love  him  as  he  deserved  who  had  seen 

things  have  been  done  in  this  world  under  the  him  at  Abbotsford."     Moore  died  February  26, 

shelter  of  '  wife  and  children'  than  under  any  1852;  see  Moore's  Life,  vol.  iv.  pp.  329-42,  and 

pretext  worldly-mindedness  can  resort  to."  To  vol.  v.  pp.  13-14. 

which  S.  R.  only  said,  "Well,  your  life  may  be  «  Hurst  and  Robinson,  Booksellers,  London. 

a  good  poem,  but  it  is  a bad  matter  of  6  Woodstock  was  at  this  time  nearly  com- 
pleted. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  7 

's  son  has  saved  his  comrade  on  shipboard  by  throwing  him- 
self overboard  and  keeping  the  other  afloat — a  very  gallant  thing. 
But  the  Gran  giag'  Asso1  asks  me  to  write  a  poem  on  the  civic  crown, 
of  which  he  sends  me  a  description  quoted  from  Adam's  Antiquities, 
which  mellifluous  performance  is  to  persuade  the  Admiralty  to  give 
the  young  conservator  promotion.  Oh  !  he  is  a  rare  head-piece,  an 
admirable  Merron.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  in  nature  such  a  full- 
acorned  Boar.8 

Could  not  write  to  purpose  for  thick-coming  fancies ;  the  wheel 
would  not  turn  easily,  and  cannot  be  forced. 

"My  spinning-wheel  is  auld  and  stiff, 

The  rock  o't  winna  stand,  sir ; 
To  keep  the  temper-pin  in  tiff 
Employs  aft  my  hand,  sir."3 

Went  to  dine  at  the  LTord]  J[ustice]-C[lerk's]4  as  I  thought  by 
invitation,  but  it  was  for  Tuesday  se'nnight.  Returned  very  well 
pleased,  not  being  exactly  in  the  humour  for  company,  and  had  a 
beef-steak.  My  appetite  is  surely,  excepting  in  quantity,  that  of  a 
farmer ;  for,  eating  moderately  of  anything,  my  Epicurean  pleasure  is 
in  the  most  simple  diet.  Wine  I  seldom  taste  when  alone,  and  use 
instead  a  little  spirits  and  water.  I  have  of  late  diminished  the  quan- 
tity, for  fear  of  a  weakness  inductive  to  a  diabetes — a  disease  which 
broke  up  my  father's  health,  though  one  of  the  most  temperate  men 
who  ever  lived.  I  smoke  a  couple  of  cigars  instead,  which  operates 
equally  as  a  sedative — 

"Just  to  drive  the  cold  winter  away, 
And  drown  the  fatigues  of  the  day." 

I  smoked  a  good  deal  about  twenty  years  ago  when  at  Ashestiel ; 
but,  coming  down  one  morning  to  the  parlour,  I  found,  as  the  room 
was  small  and  confined,  that  the  smell  was  unpleasant,  and  laid  aside 
the  use  of  the  Nicotian  weed  for  many  years ;  but  was  again  led  to 
use  it  by  the  example  of  my  son,  a  hussar  officer,  and  my  son-in-law, 
an  Oxford  student.  I  could  lay  it  aside  to-morrow ;  I  laugh  at  the 
dominion  of  custom  in  this  and  many  things. 

"  We  make  the  giants  first,  and  then — do  not  kill  them." 

November  23. — On  comparing  notes  with  Moore  I  was  confirmed 
in  one  or  two  points  which  I  had  always  laid  down  in  considering 
poor  Byron.  One  was,  that  like  Rousseau  he  was  apt  to  be  very  sus- 
picious, and  a  plain  downright  steadiness  of  manner  was  the  true 
mode  to  maintain  his  good  opinion.  Will  Rose  told  me  that  once, 

1  Probably  Sir  Walter's  dog-Italian  for  "great          3  "  My  Jo  Janet,"  Tea-Table  Miscellany. 
donkey."  <  The  Right  Hon.  David  Boyle,  who  was  at 

a  Cymbeline,  Act  n.  Sc.  5.  the  time  residing  at  28  Charlotte  Square. 


8  JOURNAL  [Xov. 

while  sitting  with  Byron,  he  fixed  insensibly  his  eyes  on  his  feet,  one 
of  which,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  deformed.  Looking  up  sud- 
denly, he  saw  Byron  regarding  him  with  a  look  of  concentrated  and 
deep  displeasure,  which  wore  off  when  he  observed  no  consciousness 
or  embarrassment  in  the  countenance  of  Rose.  Murray  afterwards 
explained  this,  by  telling  Rose  that  Lord  Byron  was  very  jealous  of 
having  this  personal  imperfection  noticed  or  attended  to.  In  anoth- 
er point,  Moore  confirmed  my  previous  opinion,  namely,  that  Byron 
loved  mischief-making.  Moore  had  written  to  him  cautioning  him 
against  the  project  of  establishing  the  paper  called  the  Liberal,  in 
communion  with  such  men  as  P.  B.  Shelley  and  Hunt,1  on  whom  he 
said  the  world  had  set  its  mark.  Byron  showed  this  to  the  parties. 
Shelley  wrote  a  modest  and  rather  affecting  expostulation  to  Moore.11 
These  two  peculiarities  of  extreme  suspicion  and  love  of  mischief  are 
both  shades  of  the  malady  which  certainly  tinctured  some  part  of 
the  character  of  this  mighty  genius ;  and,  without  some  tendency 
towards  which,  genius — I  mean  that  kind  which  depends  on  the  im- 
aginative power — perhaps  cannot  exist  to  great  extent.  The  wheels 
of  a  machine,  to  play  rapidly,  must  not  fit  with  the  utmost  exact- 
ness, else  the  attrition  diminishes  the  impetus. 

Another  of  Byron's  peculiarities  was  the  love  of  mystifying ; 
which  indeed  may  be  referred  to  that  of  mischief.  There  was  no 
knowing  how  much  or  how  little  to  believe  of  his  narratives.  In- 
stance :  —  Mr.  Bankes8  expostulating  with  him  upon  a  dedication 
which  he  had  written  in  extravagant  terms  of  praise  to  Cam  Hob- 
house,  Byron  told  him  that  Cam  had  teased  him  into  the  dedication 
till  he  had  said,  "  Well ;  it  shall  be  so, — providing  you  will  write  the 
dedication  yourself " ;  and  affirmed  that  Cam  Hobhouse  did  write 
the  high-coloured  dedication  accordingly.  I  mentioned  this  to  Mur- 
ray, having  the  report  from  Will  Rose,  to  whom  Bankes  had  men- 
tioned it.  Murray,  in  reply,  assured  me  that  the  dedication  was  writ- 
ten by  Lord  Byron  himself,  and  showed  it  me  in  his  own  hand.  I 
wrote  to  Rose  to  mention  the  thing  to  Bankes,  as  it  might  have  made 
mischief  had  the  story  got  into  the  circle.  Byron  was  disposed  to 
think  all  men  of  imagination  were  addicted  to  mix  fiction  (or  poetry) 
with  their  prose.  He  used  to  say  he  dared  believe  the  celebrated 
courtezan  of  Venice,  about  whom  Rousseau  makes  so  piquant  a 
story,  was,  if  one  could  see  her,  a  draggle-tailed  wench  enough.  I 
believe  that  he  embellished  his  own  amours  considerably,  and  that 
he  was,  in  many  respects,  le  fanfaron  de  vices  qu'il  n'avoit  pas.  He 
loved  to  be  thought  awful,  mysterious,  and  gloomy,  and  sometimes 

i  A  quarterly  journal  edited  by  Leigh  Hunt,  »  William   Bankes,  of  whom    Rogers  said, 

"The  Liberal — Verse  and   Prose  from    the  "Witty  as  Sydney  Smith  was,  I  have  seen  him 

South,"  of  which  four  numbers  only  were  pub-  at  my  own  house  absolutely  overpowered  by 

lished.    1822-1823.  the    superior   facetiousness  of  W    B."     Mr. 

"  See  Dowden's  Life  of  Shelley,  vol.  ii.  pp.  Bankes  died  in  Venice  in  1855. 
448-9,  507-8;  also  Moore's  Byron,  vol.  v.  pp.' 
313-321,  and  Russell's  Moore,  vol.  iii.  p.  353. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  9 

hinted  at  strange  causes.  I  believe  the  whole  to  have  been  the  crea- 
tion and  sport  of  a  wild  and  powerful  fancy.  In  the  same  manner 
he  crammed  people,  as  it  is  termed,  about  duels,  etc.,  which  never  ex- 
isted, or  were  much  exaggerated. 

Constable  has  been  here  as  lame  as  a  duck  upon  his  legs,  but  his 
heart  and  courage  as  firm  as  a  cock.  He  has  convinced  me  we  will 
do  well  to  support  the  London  House.  He  has  sent  them  about 
£5000,  and  proposes  we  should  borro-w  on  our  joint  security  £5000  for 
their  accommodation.  J.  B.  and  R.  Cadell  present.  I  must  be  guided 
by  them,  and  hope  for  the  best.  Certainly  to  part  company  would 
be  to  incur  an  awful  risk. 

What  I  liked  about  Byron,  besides  his  boundless  genius,  was  his 
generosity  of  spirit  as  well  as  purse,  and  his  utter  contempt  of  all 
the  affectations  of  literature,  from  the  school-magisterial  style  to  the 
lackadaisical.  Byron's  example  has  formed  a  sort  of  upper  house  of 
poetry.  There  is  Lord  Leveson  Gower,  a  very  clever  young  man.1 
Lord  Porchester  too,"  nephew  to  Mrs.  Scott  of  Harden,  a  young  man 
who  lies  on  the  carpet  and  looks  poetical  and  dandyish — fine  lad  too, 
but— 

"  There  will  be  many  peers 
Ere  such  another  Byron." 

Talking  of  Abbotsford,  it  begins  to  be  haunted  by  too  much  com- 
pany of  every  kind,  but  especially  foreigners.  I  do  not  like  them. 
I  hate  fine  waistcoats  and  breast-pins  upon  dirty  shirts.  I  detest  the 
impudence  that  pays  a  stranger  compliments,  and  harangues  about  his 
works  in  the  author's  house,  which  is  usually  ill-breeding.  Moreover, 
they  are  seldom  long  of  making  it  evident  that  they  know  nothing 
about  what  they  are  talking  of,  except  having  seen  the  Lady  of  the 
Lake  at  the  Opera. 

Dined  at  St.  Catherine's3  with  Lord  Advocate,  Lord  and  Lady 
Melville,  Lord  Justice-Clerk/  Sir  Archibald  Campbell  of  Succoth,  all 
class  companions  and  acquainted  well  for  more  than  forty  years.  All 
except  Lord  J.  C.  were  at  Eraser's  class,  High  School.5  Boyle  joined 
us  at  college.  There  are,  besides,  Sir  Adam  Ferguson,  Colin  Macken- 
zie, James  Hope,  Dr.  James  Buchan,  Claud  Russell,  and  perhaps  two 
or  three  more  of  and  about  the  same  period — but 

"  Apparent  rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto."8 

'Lord  Leveson  Gower,  afterwards  first  Karl  (on  the  ground  that  as  a  just  patron  he  could 

of  Ellesmere,  had  already  published  his  trans-  not  give  it  to  the  son-in-law  of  his  old  friend ! !) 

lation  of  Faust  in  1823,  and  a  volume  of  ''orig-  was  understood  to  be  the  cause  of  Mr.  Lock- 

inal  poems,"  and  "translations,"  in  the  fol-  hart's  quitting  the  Bar  and  devoting  himself 

lowing  year.  entirely  to  literature.     Sir  William  Rae  died  at 

2  Henry  J.  G.  Herbert,  Lord  Porchester,  after-  St.  Catherine's  on  the  19th  October.  1842. 
wards  third  Earl  of  Carnarvon,  had  published  *  David  Boyle  of  Shewalton,  L.  J.  C.  from 
The  Moor  in  1825,  and  Don  Pedro  in  182G.  1811,  and  Lord  President  from  1841  till  1852. 

3  St.  Catherine's,  the  seat  of  Sir  William  Rae,  He  died  in  1853. 

Bart.,  then  Lord  Advocate,  is  about  three  miles          8  Sec  Autobiography.  1787.  in  Liff,  vol.  i.  pp. 

from  Edinburgh.— j.  o.  I..      Sir  William  Rae's      39,  40. 

refusal  of  a  legal  appointment  to  Mr.  Ixjckhart          •  Virg.  Mn.  \.  122. 


10  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

November  24. — Talking  of  strangers,  London  held,  some  four  or 
five  years  since,  one  of  those  animals  who  are  lions  at  first,  but  by 
transmutation  of  two  seasons  become  in  regular  course  Boars ! — Ugo 
Foscolo  by  name,  a  haunter  of  Murray's  shop  and  of  literary  parties. 
Ugly  as  a  baboon,  and  intolerably  conceited,  he  spluttered,  blustered, 
and  disputed,  without  even  knowing  the  principles  upon  which  men 
of  sense  render  a  reason,  and  screamed  all  the  while  like  a  pig  when 
they  cut  its  throat.  Another  such  Animaluccio  is  a  brute  of  a  Sicil- 
ian Marquis  de  who  wrote  something  about  Byron.  He  in- 
flicted two  days  on  us  at  Abbotsford.  They  never  know  what  to 
make  of  themselves  in  the  forenoon,  but  sit  tormenting  the  women  to 
play  at  proverbs  and  such  trash. 

Foreigner  of  a  different  cast, — Count  Olonym  (Olonyne — that's  it), 
son  of  the  President  of  the  Royal  Society  and  a  captain  in  the  Inu 
perial  Guards.  He  is  mean-looking  and  sickly,  but  has  much  sense, 
candour,  and  general  information.  There  was  at  Abbotsford,  and  is 
here,  for  education  just  now,  a  young  Count  Davidoff,  with  a  tutor 
Mr.  Collyer.  He  is  a  nephew  of  the  famous  Orloffs.  It  is  quite  sur- 
prising how  much  sense  and  sound  thinking  this  youth  has  at  the 
early  age  of  sixteen,  without  the  least  self-conceit  or  forwardness. 
On  the  contrary,  he  seems  kind,  modest,  and  ingenuous.'  To  ques- 
tions which  I  asked  about  the  state  of  Russia  he  answered  with  the 
precision  and  accuracy  of  twice  his  years.  I  should  be  sorry  the  say- 
ing were  verified  in  him — 

"So  wise,  so  young,  they  say,  do  ne'er  live  long."" 

Saw  also  at  Abbotsford  two  Frenchmen  whom  I  liked,  friends  of  Miss 
Dumergue.  One,  called  Le  Noir,  is  the  author  of  a  tragedy  which  he 
had  the  grace  never  to  quote,  and  which  I,  though  poked  by  some 
malicious  persons,  had  not  the  grace  even  to  hint  at.  They  were 
disposed  at  first  to  be  complimentary,  but  I  convinced  them  it  was 
not  the  custom  here,  and  they  took  it  well,  and  were  agreeable. 

A  little  bilious  this  morning,  for  the  first  time  these  six  months. 
It  cannot  be  the  London  matters  which  stick  on  my  stomach,  for  that 
is  mending,  and  may  have  good  effects  on  myself  and  others. 

Dined  with  Robert  Cockburn.  Company,  Lord  Melville  and  fam- 
ily ;  Sir  John  and  Lady  Hope ;  Lord  and  Lady  R.  Kerr,  and  so  forth. 
Combination  of  colliers  general,  and  coals  up  to  double  price ;  the 
men  will  not  work,  although,  or  rather  because,  they  can  make  from 
thirty  to  forty  shillings  per  week.  Lord  R,  K.  told  us  that  he  had  a 

>  M.  Davidoff  has,  in  his  mature  life,  amply  "  King  Richard  III.,  Act  HI.  Sc.  1.     Count 
justified  Sir  Walter's  prognostications.     He  Orion"  Davidoff  lived  to  falsify  this  ''saying. " 
has,  I  understand,  published  in  the  Russian  He  revisited  England  in  1872,  and  had  the  pleas- 
language  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of  Scott.  ure  of  meeting  with  Scott's  great  granddaugh- 
Rut  his  travels  in  Greece  and  Asia  .Minor  are  ter,  ;md  talking  to  her  of  these  old  happy  Ab- 
\vcll  known,  and  considered  as  in  a  high  degree  botsford  days, 
honourable  to  his  taste  and  learning. — [1839  ] 
— j.  o.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  11 

letter  from  Lord  Forbes  (son  of  Earl  Granard,  Ireland),  that  he  was 
asleep  in  his  house  at  Castle  Forbes,  when  awakened  by  a  sense  of 
suffocation  which  deprived  him  of  the  power  of  stirring  a  limb,  yet 
left  him  the  consciousness  that  the  house  was  on  fire.  At  this  mo- 
ment, and  while  his  apartment  was  in  flames,  his  large  dog  jumped  on 
the  bed,  seized  his  shirt,  and  dragged  him  to  the  staircase,  where  the 
fresh  air  restored  his  powers  of  exertion  and  of  escape.  This  is  very 
different  from  most  cases  of  preservation  of  life  by  the  canine  race, 
when  the  animal  generally  jumps  into  the  water,  in  which  [element] 
he  has  force  and  skill.  That  of  fire  is  as  hostile  to  him  as  to  man- 
kind. 

November  25. — Read  Jeffrey's  neat  and  well-intended  address1  to 
the  mechanics  upon  their  combinations.  Will  it  do  good  ?  Umph. 
It  takes  only  the  hand  of  a  Lilliputian  to  light  a  fire,  but  would  re- 
quire the  diuretic  powers  of  Gulliver  to  extinguish  it.  The  Whigs 
will  live  and  die  in  the  heresy  that  the  world  is  ruled  by  little  pam- 
phlets and  speeches,  and  that  if  you  can  sufficiently  demonstrate  that 
a  line  of  conduct  is  most  consistent  with  men's  interest,  you  have 
therefore  and  thereby  demonstrated  that  they  will  at  length,  after  a 
few  speeches  on  the  subject,  adopt  it  of  course.  In  this  case  we 
would  have  [no]  need  of  laws  or  churches,  for  I  am  sure  there  is  no 
difficulty  in  proving  that  moral,  regular,  and  steady  habits  conduce  to 
men's  best  interest,  and  that  vice  is  not  sin  merely,  but  folly.  But 
of  these  men  each  has  passions  and  prejudices,  the  gratification  of 
which  he  prefers,  not  only  to  the  general  weal,  but  to  that  of  himself 
as  an  individual.  Under  the  action  of  these  wayward  impulses  a 
man  drinks  to-day  though  he  is  sure  of  starving  to-morrow.  He 
murders  to-morrow  though  he  is  sure  to  be  hanged  on  Wednesday ; 
and  people  are  so  slow  to  believe  that  which  makes  against  their  own 
predominant  passions,  that  mechanics  will  combine  to  raise  the  price 
for  one  week,  though  they  destroy  the  manufacture  forever.  The  best 
remedy  seems  to  be  the  probable  supply  of  labourers  from  other 
trades.  Jeffrey  proposes  each  mechanic  shall  learn  some  other  trade 
than  his  own,  and  so  have  two  strings  to  his  bow.  He  does  not  con- 
sider the  length  of  a  double  apprenticeship.  To  make  a  man  a  good 
weaver  and  a  good  tailor  would  require  as  much  time  as  the  patriarch 
served  for  his  two  wives,  and  after  all,  he  would  be  but  a  poor  work- 
man at  either  craft.  Each  mechanic  has,  indeed,  a  second  trade,  for 
he  can  dig  and  do  rustic  work.  Perhaps  the  best  reason  for  break- 
ing up  the  association  will  prove  to  be  the  expenditure  of  the  mon- 
ey which  they  have  been  simple  enough  to  levy  from  the  industrious 
for  the  support  of  the  idle.  How  much  provision  for  the  sick  and 
the  aged,  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  has  been  expended  in  the  at- 
tempt to  get  wages  which  the  manufacturer  cannot  afford  them,  with 
any  profitable  chance  of  selling  his  commodity  ? 

1  Combinations  of  Workmen.     Substance  of  a  speech  by  Francis  Jeffrey.    8vo.    Edin.  1825. 


12  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

I  had  a  bad  fall  last  night  coming  home.  There  were  unfinished 
houses  at  the  east  end  of  Atholl  Place,1  and  as  I  was  on  foot,  I 
crossed  the  street  to  avoid  the  material  which  lay  about ;  but,  de- 
ceived by  the  moonlight,  I  stepped  ankle-deep  in  a  sea  of  mud  (hon- 
est earth  and  water,  thank  God),  and  fell  on  my  hands.  Never  was 
there  such  a  representative  of  Wall  in  Pyramus  and  Thisbe — I  was 
absolutely  rough- cast.  Luckily  Lady  S.  had  retired  when  I  came 
home ;  so  I  enjoyed  my  tub  of  water  without  either  remonstrance  or 
condolences.  Cockburn's  hospitality  will  get  the  benefit  and  renown 
of  my  downfall,  and  yet  has  no  claim  to  it.  In  future  though,  I  must 
take  a  coach  at  night — a  control  on  one's  freedom, 

,     ,  ..  i  &  .,,    j   ,  T  £         j        i   4.  A- B-  Within  eight 

bat  it  must  be  submitted  to.  I  round  a  letter  from  weeks  after  recording 
[R]  C[adell],  giving  a  cheering  account  of  things  in  SbmSS^l  fouUi 
London.  Their  correspondent  is  getting  into  his  was  unable  to  keep  a 
strength.  Three  days  ago  I  would  have  been  con- 
tented to  buy  this  consola,  as  Judy  says,4  dearer  than  by  a  dozen  falls 
in  the  mud.  For  had  the  great  Constable  fallen,  O  my  countrymen, 
what  a  fall  were  there  ! 

Mrs.  Coutts,  with  the  Duke  of  St.  Albans  and  Lady  Charlotte  Beau- 
clerk,  called  to  take  leave  of  us.  When  at  Abbotsford  his  suit  throve 
but  coldly.  She  made  me,  I  believe,  her  confidant  in  sincerity.3  She 
had  refused  him  twice,  and  decidedly.  He  was  merely  on  the  foot- 
ing of  friendship.  I  urged  it  was  akin  to  love.  She  allowed  she 
might  marry  the  Duke,  only  she  had  at  present  not  the  least  intention 
that  way.  Is  this  frank  admission  more  favorable  for  the  Duke  than 
an  absolute  protestation  against  the  possibility  of  such  a  marriage? 
I  think  not.  It  is  the  fashion  to  attend  Mrs.  Coutts'  parties  and  to 
abuse  her.  I  have  always  found  her  a  kind,  friendly  woman,  without 
either  affectation  or  insolence  in  the  display  of  her  wealth,  and  most 
willing  to  do  good  if  the  means  be  shown  to  her.  She  can  be  very 
entertaining  too,  as  she  speaks  without  scruple  of  her  stage  life.  So 
much  wealth  can  hardly  be  enjoyed  without  some  ostentation.  But 
what  then  ?  If  the  Duke  marries  her,  he  ensures  an  immense  fort- 
une ;  if  she  marries  him,  she  has  the  first  rank.  If  he  marries  a 
woman  older  than  himself  by  twenty  years,  she  marries  a  man  young- 
er in  wit  by  twenty  degrees.  I  do  not  think  he  will  dilapidate  her 
fortune — he  seems  quiet  and  gentle.  I  do  not  think  that  she  will 
abuse  his  softness — of  disposition,  shall  I  say,  or  of  heart  ?  The  dis- 
parity of  ages  concerns  no  one  but  themselves  ;  so  they  have  my  con- 
sent to  marry,  if  they  can  get  each  other's.  Just  as  this  is  written, 
enter  my  Lord  of  St.  Albans  and  Lady  Charlotte,  to  beg  I  would  rec- 
ommend a  book  of  sermons  to  Mrs.  Coutts.  Much  obliged  for  her 

1  Mr.   Robert   Cockburn,   Lord   Cockbtirn's  every  word  ending  in  tion,  by  the  omission  of 
brother,  was  then  living  at  No.  7  Atholl  Ores-  the  termination.      Consola  for  consolation — 
cent.  bothera  for  botheration,  etc.  etc.     Lord  I'lun- 

2  This  alludes  to  a  strange  old  woman,  keep-  kett  had  taken  care  to  parade  Judy  and  all  her 
er  of  a  public-house  among  the  Wicklow  mount-  peculiarities. — j.  <!.  L. 

ains,  who,  among  a  world  of  oddities  cut  short          3  See  the  Duchess's  Letter,  p.  414. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  13 

good  opinion :  recommended  Logan's1  —  one  poet  should  always 
speak  for  another.  The  mission,  I  suppose,  was  a  little  display 
on  the  part  of  good  Mrs.  Coutts  of  authority  over  her  high  aristo- 
cratic suitor.  I  do  not  suspect  her  of  turning  devote,  and  retract 
my  consent  given  as  above,  unless  she  remains  "  lively,  brisk,  and 
jolly."2 

Dined  quiet  with  wife  and  daughter.  R[obert]  Cadell  looked  in 
in  the  evening  on  business. 

I  here  register  my  purpose  to  practise  economics.  I  have  little 
temptation  to  do  otherwise.  Abbotsford  is  all  that  I  can  make  it, 
and  too  large  for  the  property ;  so  I  resolve — 

No  more  building ; 

No  purchases  of  land  till  times  are  quite  safe ; 

No  buying  books  or  expensive  trifles — I  mean  to  any  extent ;  and 

Clearing  off  encumbrances,  with  the  returns  of  this  year's  la- 
bour ; — 

Which  resolutions,  Avith  health  and  my  habits  of  industry,  will 
make  me  "  sleep  in  spite  of  thunder." 

After  all,  it  is  hard  that  the  vagabond  stock-jobbing  Jews  should, 
for  their  own  purposes,  make  such  a  shake  of  credit  as  now  exists  in 
London,  and  menace  the  credit  of  men  trading  on  sure  funds  like 
H[urst]  and  R[obinson].  It  is  just  like  a  set  of  pickpockets,  who 
raise  a  mob,  in  which  honest  folks  are  knocked  down  and  plundered, 
that  they  may  pillage  safely  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  they  have 
excited. 

November  26. — The  court  met  late,  and  sat  till  one ;  detained  from 
that  hour  till  four  o'clock,  being  engaged  in  the  perplexed  affairs  of 
Mr.  James  Stewart  of  Brugh.  This  young  gentleman  is  heir  to  a 
property  of  better  than  £1000  a-year  in  Orkney.  His  mother  mar- 
ried very  young,  and  was  wife,  mother,  and  widow  in  the  course  of 
the  first  year.  Being  unfortunately  under  the  direction  of  a  careless 
agent,  she  was  unlucky  enough  to  embarrass  her  own  affairs  by  many 
transactions  with  this  person.  I  was  asked  to  accept  the  situation  of 
one  of  the  son's  curators ;  and  trust  to  clear  out  his 
thL^fin'con'seciulnce  affairs  and  hers — at  least  I  will  not  fail  for  want  of 
of  my  own  misfort-  application.  I  have  lent  her  £300  on  a  second 
(and  therefore  doubtful)  security  over  her  house  in 
Newington,  bought  for  £1000,  and  on  which  £600  is  already  secured. 
I  have  no  connection  with  the  family  except  that  of  compassion,  and 
may  not  be  rewarded  even  by  thanks  when  the  young  man  conies  of 
age.  I  have  known  my  father  often  so  treated  by  those  whom  he 
had  laboured  to  serve.  But  if  we  do  not  run  some  hazard  in  our  at- 


1  The  Rev.  John  Logan,  minister  of  South  took  place  on  June  16,  1827.  the  lady  having 
Leith,  1748-1788.    The  ''Sermons"  were  not  previously  asked  the  consent  of  George  iv.! !  A 
published  until  1790-91.  droll  account  of  the  reception  of  her  Mercure 

2  For  an  account  of  her  visit  to  Abbotsford,  galant  at  Windsor  is  given  in  the  North  British 
see  Life,  vol.  viii.  pp.  72-76.      The   marriage  Review,  vol.  xxxix.  p.  349. 


14  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

tempts  to  do  good,  where  is  the  merit  of  them  ?  So  I  will  bring 
through  my  Orkney  laird  if  I  can.  Dined  at  home  quiet  with  Lady 
8.  and  Anne. 

November  27. — Some  time  since  John  Murray  entered  into  a  con- 
tract with  my  son-in-law,  John  G.  Lockhart,  giving  him  on  certain 
ample  conditions  the  management  and  editorship  of  the  Quarterly 
Review,  for  which  they  could  certainly  scarcely  find  a  fitter  person, 
both  from  talents  and  character.  It  seems  that  Barrow1  and  one  or 
two  stagers  have  taken  alarm  at  Lockhart's  character  as  a  satirist, 
and  his  supposed  accession  to  some  of  the  freaks  in  Blackwood1  $ 
Magazine,  and  down  comes  young  D'lsraeli"  to  Scotland  imploring 
Lockhart  to  make  interest  with  my  friends  in  London  to  remove  ob- 
jections, and  so  forth.  I  have  no  idea  of  telling  all  and  sundry  that 
my  son-in-law  is  not  a  slanderer,  or  a  silly  thoughtless  lad,  although 
he  was  six  or  seven  years  ago  engaged  in  some  light  satires.  I  only 
wrote  to  Heber  and  to  Southey — the  first  upon  the  subject  of  the  re- 
ports which  had  startled  Murray  (the  most  timorous,  as  Byron  called 
him,  of  all  God's  booksellers),  and  such  a  letter  as  he  may  show  Bar- 
row if  he  judges  proper.  To  Southey  I  wrote  more  generally,  ac- 
quainting him  of  my  son's  appointment  to  the  Editorship,  and  men- 
tioning his  qualifications,  touching,  at  the  same  time,  on  his  very 
slight  connection  with  Blackwood's  Magazine,  and  his  innocence  as 
to  those  gambades  which  may  have  given  offence,  and  which,  I  fear, 
they  may  ascribe  too  truly  to  an  eccentric  neighbour  of  their  own. 
I  also  mentioned  that  I  had  heard  nothing  of  the  affair  until  the 
month  of  October.  I  am  concerned  that  Southey  should  know  this ; 
for,  having  been  at  the  Lakes  in  September,  I  would  not  have  him 
suppose  that -I  had  been  using  interest  with  Canning  or  Ellis  to 
supersede  young  Mr.  Coleridge,3  their  editor,  and  place  my  son-in-law 
in  the  situation ;  indeed  I  was  never  more  surprised  than  when  this 
proposal  came  upon  us.  I  suppose  it  had  come  from  Canning  origi- 
nally, as  he  was  sounding  Anne  when  at  Colonel  BoltonV  about 
Lockhart's  views,  etc.  To  me  he  never  hinted  anything  on  the  sub- 
ject. Other  views  are  held  out  to  Lockhart  which  may  turn  to  great 
advantage.  Only  one  person  (John  Cay6  of  Charlton)  knows  their 
object,  and  truly  I  wish  it  had  not  been  confided  to  any  one.  Yes- 
terday I  had  a  letter  from  Murray  in  answer  to  one  I  had  written  in 
something  of  a  determined  style,  for  I  had  no  idea  of  permitting  him 
to  start  from  the  course  after  my  son  giving  up  his  situation  and 
profession,  merely  because  a  contributor  or  two  chose  to  suppose 
gratuitously  that  Lockhart  was  too  imprudent  for  the  situation.  My 
physic  has  wrought  well,  for  it  brought  a  letter  from  Murray  saying 

i  Sir  John  Barrow,  the  well-known  Secre-  (1790-1876),  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Court  of 

tary  to  the  Admiralty,  who  died  in  1848  in  his  Queen's  Bench. 

eighty-fifth  year.  *  Storrs,  Windennerc. 

'  Benjamin  Disraeli,  afterwards  Lord  Bea-  5  John  Cay,  member  of  the  Scotch  Bar,  Sher- 

consneld.  iffof  Linlithgow.   He  wasone  of  Mr.  I.ockhart's 

9  In  after  years  Sir  John  Taylor  Coleridge  oldest  friends;  he  died  in  1865. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  15 

all  was  right,  that  D' Israeli  was  sent  to  me,  not  to  Lockhart,  and  that 
I  was  only  invited  to  write  two  confidential  letters,  and  other  incohe- 
rencies — which  intimate  his  fright  has  got  into  another  quarter.  It 
is  interlined  and  franked  by  Barrow,  which  shows  that  all  is  well, 
and  that  John's  induction  into  his  office  will  be  easy  and  pleasant. 
I  have  not  the  least  fear  of  his  success ;  his  talents  want  only  a 
worthy  sphere  of  exertion.  He  must  learn,  however,  to  despise  petty 
adversaries.  No  good  sportsman  ought  to  shoot  at  crows  unless  for 
some  special  purpose.  To  take  notice  of  such  men  as  Hazlitt  and 
Hunt  in  the  Quarterly  would  be  to  introduce  them  into  a  world 
which  is  scarce  conscious  of  their  existence.  It  is  odd  enough  that 
many  years  since  I  had  the  principal  share  in  erecting  this  Review 
which  has  been  since  so  prosperous,  and  now  it  is  placed  under  the 
management  of  my  son-in-law  upon  the  most  honourable  principle  of 
detur  digniori.  Yet  there  are  sad  drawbacks  so  far  as  family  com- 
fort is  concerned.  To-day  is  Sunday,  when  they  always  dined  with 
us,  and  generally  met  a  family  friend  or  two,  but  we  are  no  longer  to 
expect  them.  In  the  country,  where  their  little  cottage  was  within 
a  mile  or  two  of  Abbotsford,  we  shall  miss  their  society  still  more, 
for  Chiefswood  was  the  perpetual  object  of  our  walks,  rides,  and 
drives.  Lockhart  is  such  an  excellent  family  man,  so  fond  of  his 
wife  and  child,  that  I  hope  all  will  go  well.  A  letter  from  Lockhart 
in  the  evening.  All  safe  as  to  his  unanimous  reception  in  London ; 
his  predecessor,  young  [Coleridge],  handsomely,  and  like  a  gentleman, 
offers  his  assistance  as  a  contributor,  etc. 

November  28. — I  have  the  less  dread,  or  rather  the  less  anxiety, 
about  the  consequences  of  this  migration,  that  I  repose  much  confi- 
dence in  Sophia's  tact  and  good  sense.  Her  manners  are  good,  and 
have  the  appearance  of  being  perfectly  natural.  She  is  quite  con- 
scious of  the  limited  range  of  her  musical  talents,  and  never  makes 
them  common  or  produces  them  out  of  place, — a  rare  virtue ;  more- 
over she  is  proud  enough,  and  will  not  be  easily  netted  and  patron- 
ised by  any  of  that  class  of  ladies  who  may  be  called  Lion-providers 
for  town  and  country.  She  is  domestic  besides,  and  will  not  be  dis- 
posed to  gad  about.  Then  she  seems  an  economist,  and  on  £3000,1 
living  quietly,  there  should  be  something  to  save.  Lockhart  must 
be  liked  where  his  good  qualities  are  known,  and  where  his  fund  of 
information  has  room  to  be  displayed.  But,  notwithstanding  a  hand- 
some exterior  and  face,  I  am  not  sure  he  will  succeed  in  London  So- 
ciety ;  he  sometimes  reverses  the  proverb,  and  gives  the  volte  strette  e 
pensiere  sciolti,  withdraws  his  attention  from  the  company,  or  attach- 
es himself  to  some  individual,  gets  into  a  corner,  and  seems  to  be 


i  Moore  records  that  Scott  told  him  "  Lock-  Oct.  29,  vol.  iv.  p.  334.    Jeffrey  had  £700  a  year 
hart  was  about  to  undertake  the  Quarterly,  has  as  Editor  of  the  Edinburgh,  and  £2800  for  con- 
agreed  for  five  years;  salary  .£1200  a  year;  and  tributors:  June,  1823,  see  Moore's  Diary,  vol. 
if  he  writes  a  certain  number  of  articles  it  will  iv.  p.  89. 
be  £1500  a  year  to  him,"  Moore's  Diary,  under 


16  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

quizzing  the  rest.  This  is  the  want  of  early  habits  of  being  in  society, 
and  a  life  led  much  at  college.  Nothing  is,  however,  so  popular,  and 
so  deservedly  so,  as  to  take  an  interest  in  whatever  is  going  forward 
in  society.  A  wise  man  always  finds  his  account  in  it,  and  will  re- 
ceive information  and  fresh  views  of  life  even  in  the  society  of  fools. 
Abstain  from  society  altogether  when  you  are  not  able  to  play  some 
part  in  it.  This  reserve,  and  a  sort  of  Hidalgo  air  joined  to  his 
character  as  a  satirist,  have  done  the  best-humoured  fellow  in  the 
world  some  injury  in  the  opinion  of  Edinburgh  folks.  In  London  it 
is  of  less  consequence  whether  he  please  in  general  society  or  not, 
since  if  he  can  establish  himself  as  a  genius  it  will  only  be  called 
"  Pretty  Fanny's  Way." 

People  make  me  the  oddest  requests.  It  is  not  unusual  for  an 
Oxonian  or  Cantab,  who  has  outrun  his  allowance,  and  of  whom  I 
know  nothing,  to  apply  to  me  for  the  loan  of  £20,  £50,  or  £100.  A 
captain  of  the  Danish  naval  service  writes  to  me,  that  being  in  dis- 
tress for  a  sum  of  money  by  which  he  might  transport  himself  to 
Columbia,  to  offer  his -services  in  assisting  to  free  that  province, 
he  had  dreamed  I  generously  made  him  a  present  of  it.  I  can 
tell  him  his  dream  by  contraries.  I  begin  to  find,  like  Joseph  Sur- 
face, that  too  good  a  character  is  inconvenient.  I  don't  know  what 
I  have  done  to  gain  so  much  credit  for  generosity,  but  I  suspect  I 
owe  it  to  being  supposed,  as  Puff '  says,  one  of  those  "  whom  Heav- 
en has  blessed  with  affluence."  Not  too  much  of  that  neither,  my 
dear  petitioners,  though  I  may  thank  myself  that  your  ideas  are  not 
correct. 

Dined  at  Melville  Castle,  whither  I  went  through  a  snow-storm. 
I  was  glad  to  find  myself  once  more  in  a  place  connected  with  many 
happy  days.  Met  Sir  R.  Dundas  and  my  old  friend  George,  now 
Lord  Abercromby,2  with  his  lady,  and  a  beautiful  girl,  his  daughter. 
He  is  what  he  always  was — the  best-humoured  man  living ;  and  our 
meetings,  now  more  rare  than  usual,  are  seasoned  with  a  recollection 
of  old  frolics  and  old  friends.  I  am  entertained  to  see  him  just  the 
same  he  has  always  been,  never  yielding  up  his  own  opinion  in  fact, 
and  yet  in  words  acquiescing  in  all  that  could  be  said  against  it. 
George  was  always  like  a  willow — he  never  offered  resistance  to  the 
breath  of  argument,  but  never  moved  from  his  rooted  opinion,  blow 
as  it  listed.  Exaggeration  might  make  these  peculiarities  highly 
dramatic :  Conceive  a  man  who  always  seems  to  be  acquiescing  in  your 
sentiments,  yet  never  changes  his  own,  and  this  with  a  sort  of  bon- 
homie which  shows  there  is  not  a  particle  of  deceit  intended.  He  is 
only  desirous  to  spare  you  the  trouble  of  contradiction. 

November  29. — A  letter  from  Southey,  malcontent  about  Murray 
having  accomplished  the  change  in  the  Quarterly  without  speaking 

1  Sheridan's  Critic,  Acti.  Sc.  2.  2  George  Abercromby,  eldest  son  of  Sir  Ralph, 

the  hero  of  the  battle  of  Alexandria. 


1825.]  JOURXAL  17 

to  him,  and  quoting  the  twaddle  of  some  old  woman,  male  or  female, 
about  Lockhart's  earlier  jeux  d1  esprit,  but  concluding  most  kindly  that 
in  regard  to  my  daughter  and  me  he  did  not  mean  to  withdraw.  That 
he  has  done  yeoman's  service  to  the  Review  is  certain,  with  his  gen- 
ius, his  universal  reading,  his  powers  of  regular  industry,  and  at  the 
outset  a  name  which,  though  less  generally  popular  than  it  deserves, 
is  still  too  respectable  to  be  withdrawn  without  injury.  I  could  not 
in  reply  point  out  to  him  what  is  the  truth,  that  his  rigid  Toryism 
and  High  Church  prejudices  rendered  him  an  unsafe  counsellor  in  a 
matter  where  the  spirit  of  the  age  must  be  consulted ;  but  I  pointed 
out  to  him  what  I  am  sure  is  true,  that  Murray,  apprehensive  of  his 
displeasure,  had  not  ventured  to  write  to  him  out  of  mere  timidity 
and  not  from  any  [intention  to  offend],  I  treated  [lightly]  his  old 
woman's  apprehensions  and  cautions,  and  all  that  gossip  about  friends 
and  enemies,  to  which  a  splendid  number  or  two  will  be  a  sufficient 
answer,  and  I  accepted  with  due  acknowledgment  his  proposal  of  con- 
tinued support.  I  cannot  say  I  was  afraid  of  his  withdrawing.  Lock- 
hart  will  have  hard  words  with  him,  for,  great  as  Southey's  powers 
are,  he  has  not  the  art  to  make  them  work  popularly  ;  he  is  often  dif- 
fuse, and  frequently  sets  much  value  on  minute  and  unimportant  facts, 
and  useless  pieces  of  abstruse  knowledge.  Living  too  exclusively  in 
a  circle  where  he  is  idolised  both  for  his  genius  and  the  excellence 
of  his  disposition,  he  has  acquired  strong  prejudices,  though  all  of 
an  upright  and  honourable  cast.  He  rides  his  High  Church  hobby 
too  hard,  and  it  will  not  do  to  run  a  tilt  upon  it  against  all  the  world. 
Gifford  used  to  crop  his  articles  considerably,  and  they  bear  mark  of 
it,  being  sometimes  decousues.  Southey  said  that  Gifford  cut  out  his 
middle  joints.  When  John  comes  to  use  the  carving-knife  I  fear  Dr. 
Southey  will  not  be  so  tractable.  Nous  verrons.  I  will  not  show 
Southey's  letter  to  Lockhart,  for  there  is  to  him  personally  no  friend- 
ly tone,  and  it  would  startle  the  Hidalgo's  pride.  It  is  to  be  wished 
they  may  draw  kindly  together.  Southey  says  most  truly  that  even 
those  who  most  undervalue  his  reputation  would,  were  he  to  with- 
draw from  the  Review,  exaggerate  the  loss  it  would  thereby  sustain. 
The  bottom  of  all  these  feuds,  though  not  named,  is  Blackwood 's 
Magazine;  all  the  squibs  of  which,  which  have  sometimes  exploded 
among  the  Lakers,  Lockhart  is  rendered  accountable  for.  He  must 
now  exert  himself  at  once  with  spirit  and  prudence.1  He  has  good 
backing — Canning,  Bishop  Blomfield,  Gifford,  Wright,  Croker,  Will 

1  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  Pro-  Number  or  I  should  be  in  a  pretty  hobble.   My 

fessor  Wilson,  urgently  claiming  his  aid,  shows  belief  is  that  he  has  been  living  on  the  stock 

that  the  new  editor  had  lost  no  time  in  looking  bequeathed  by  Gilford,  and  the  contributions 

after  his  "first  Number":—  of  a  set  of  H es  and  other  d— d  idiots  of 

Oriel.     But  mind  now.  AVilson,  I  am  sure  to 

"  Mr.  Coleridge  has  yesterday  transferred  to  have  a  most  hard  struggle  to  get  up  a  very  good 

me  the  treasures  of  the  Quarterly  Review;  and  first  Number,  and  if  I  do  not,  it  will  be  the 

I  must  say,  my  dear  Wilson,  that  his  whole  Devil."    This  letter  was  quoted  in  an  abridged 

stork  is  not  worth  five  shillings.     Thank  God,  form  in  the  Life  of  Professor  Wilson  by  Mrs. 

other  and  better  hands  are  at  work  for  my  first  Gordon. 
o 


18  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

Rose, — and  is  there  not  besides  the  Douglas  ?'  An  excellent  plot,  ex- 
cellent friends,  and  full  of  preparations  ?  It  was  no  plot  of  my  mak- 
ing, I  am  sure,  yet  men  will  say  and  believe  that  [it  was],  though  I 
never  heard  a  word  of  the  matter  till  first  a  hint  from  Wright,  and 
then  the  formal  proposal  of  Murray  to  Lockhart  announced.  I  be- 
lieve Canning  and  Charles  Ellis  were  the  prime  movers.  I'll  puzzle 
my  brains  no  more  about  it. 

Dined  at  Justice  -  Clerk's — the  President — Captain  Smollett,  etc., 
— our  new  Commander-in-chief,  Hon.  Sir  Robert  O'Callaghan,  brother 
to  Earl  of  Lismore,  a  fine  soldierly -looking  man,  with  orders  and 
badges ; — his  brother,  an  agreeable  man,  whom  I  met  at  Lowther 
Castle  this  season.  He  composes  his  own  music  and  sings  his  own 
poetry — has  much  humour,  enhanced  by  a  strong  touch  of  national 
dialect,  which  is  always  a  rich  sauce  to  an  Irishman's  good  things. 
Dandyish,  but  not  offensively,  and  seems  to  have  a  warm  feeling  for 
the  credit  of  his  country — rather  inconsistent  with  the  trifling  and 
selfish  quietude  of  a  mere  man  of  society. 

November  30. — I  am  come  to  the  time  when  those  who  look  out 
of  the  windows  shall  be  darkened.  I  must  now  wear  spectacles  con- 
stantly in  reading  and  writing,  though  till  this  winter  I  have  made  a 
shift  by  using  only  their  occasional  assistance.  Although  my  health 
cannot  be  better,  I  feel  my  lameness  becomes  sometimes  painful,  and 
often  inconvenient.  Walking  on  the  pavement  or  causeway  gives 
me  trouble,  and  I  am  glad  when  I  have  accomplished  my  return  on 
foot  from  the  Parliament  House  to  Castle  Street,  though  I  can  (tak- 
ing a  competent  time,  as  old  Braxie*  said  on  another  occasion)  walk 
five  or  six  miles  in  the  country  with  pleasure.  WTell — such  things 
must  come,  and  be  received  with  cheerful  submission.  My  early 
lameness  considered,  it  was  impossible  for  a  man  labouring  under  a 
bodily  impediment  to  have  been  stronger  or  more  active  than  I  have 
been,  and  that  for  twenty  or  thirty  years.  Seams  will  slit,  and  el- 
bows will  out,  quoth  the  tailor;  and  as  I  was  fifty -four  on  15th  Au- 
gust last,  my  mortal  vestments  are  none  of  the  newest.  Then  Walter, 
Charles,  and  Lockhart  are  as  active  and  handsome  young  fellows  as 
you  can  see ;  and  while  they  enjoy  strength  and  activity  I  can  hardly 
be  said  to  want  it.  I  have  perhaps  all  my  life  set  an  undue  value  on 
,  these  gifts.  Yet  it  does  appear  to  me  that  high  and  independent 
feelings  are  naturally,  though  not  uniformly  or  inseparably,  connect- 
ed with  bodily  advantages.  Strong  men  are  usually  good-humoured, 
and  active  men  often  display  the  same  elasticity  of  mind  as  of  body. 
These  are  superiorities,  however,  that  are  often  misused.  But  even 
for  these  things  God  shall  call  us  to  judgment. 

Some  months  since  I  joined  with  other  literary  folks  in  subscrib- 

i  This  probably  refers  to  Archibald,  Lord  For  notices  of  these  valued  friends  see  Life, 
Douglas,  who  had  married  the  Lady  Frances  vol.  ii.  pp.  27-8;  iv.  pp.  22,  70:  and  v.  p.  230. 
Scott,  sister  of  Henry,  Duke  of  Buccleuch.  8  Robert  Macqueen — Lord  Braxfleld — Justice- 
Lord  Douglas  died  on  the  26th  December,  1827.  Clerk  from  1788;  he  died  in  1799. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  19 

ing  a  petition  for  a  pension  to  Mrs.  G.  of  L.,1  which  we  thought  was 
a  tribute  merited  by  her  works  as  an  authoress,  and,  in  my  opinion, 
much  more  by  the  firmness  and  elasticity  of  mind  with  which  she 
had  borne  a  succession  of  great  domestic  calamities.  Unhappily 
there  was  only  about  £100  open  on  the  pension  list,  and  this  the 

minister  assigned  in  equal  portions  to  Mrs.  G ,  and  a  distressed 

lady,  grand-daughter  of  a  forfeited  Scottish  nobleman.    Mrs.  G— '- , 

proud  as  a  Highland-woman,  vain  as  a  poetess,  and  absurd  as  a  blue- 
stocking, has  taken  this  partition  in  malam  partem,  and  written  to 
Lord  Melville  about  her  merits,  and  that  her  friends  do  not  consider 
her  claims  as  being  fairly  canvassed,  with  something  like  a  demand 
that  her  petition  be  submitted  to  the  King.  This  is  not  the  way  to 
make  her  plack  a  bawbee,  and  Lord  M.,  a  little  miffed  in  turn,  sends 

the  whole  correspondence  to  me  to  know  whether  Mrs.  G will 

'accept  the  £50  or  not.  Now,  hating  to  deal  with  ladies  when  they 
are  in  an  unreasonable  humour,  I  have  got  the  good-humoured  "  Man 
of  Feeling  "  to  find  out  the  lady's  mind,  and  I  take  on  myself  the  task 
of  making  her  peace  with  Lord  M.  There  is  no  great  doubt  how  it 
will  end,  for  your  scornful  dog  will  always  eat  your  dirty  pudding.* 
After  all,  the  poor  lady  is  greatly  to  be  pitied ; — her  sole  remaining 
daughter,  deep  and  far  gone  in  a  decline,  has  been  seized  with  aliena- 
tion of  mind. 

Dined  with  my  cousin,  R[obert]  R[utherford],  being  the  first  in- 
vitation since  my  uncle's  death,  and  our  cousin  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Russell3  of  Ashestiel,  with  his  sister  Anne — the  former  newly  re- 
turned from  India — a  fine  gallant  fellow,  and  distinguished  as  a  cav- 
alry officer.  He  came  overland  from  India  and  has  observed  a  good 

deal.     General  L of  L ,  in  Logan's  orthography  a  fowl,  Sir 

William  Hamilton,  Miss  Peggie  Swinton,  William  Keith,  and  others. 
Knight  Marischal  not  well,  so  unable  to  attend  the  convocation  of 
kith  and  kin. 

1  Mrs.  Grant  of  Laggan,  author  of  Letters      few  months  later,  when  he  unwillingly  "im- 
from  the  Mountains,  Superstitions  of  the  High-      peticosed  the  gratillity  "  for  the  critique  on 
landers,  etc.     Died  at  Edin.  in  1838,  aged  83.  Gait's  Omen.     See  this  Journal,  June  24, 18'J6. 

3  Afterwards  Hajor-General  Sir  James  Rus- 

2  Scott  had  not  the  smallest  hesitation  in      sell,  G.C.B.    He  died  at  Ashestiel  in  1859  in 
applying  this  unsavoury  proverb  to  himself  a      his  78th  year. 


DECEMBER 

December  1. — Colonel  R[ussell]  told  me  that  the  European  Gov- 
ernment had  discovered  an  ingenious  mode  of  diminishing  the  num- 
ber of  burnings  of  widows.  It  seems  the  Shaster  positively  enjoins 
that  the  pile  shall  be  so  constructed  that,  if  the  victim  should  repent 
even  at  the  moment  when  it  is  set  on  fire,  she  may  still  have  the 
means  of  saving  herself.  The  Brahmins  soon  found  it  was  necessary 
to  assist  the  resolution  of  the  sufferers,  by  means  of  a  little  pit  into 
which  they  contrive  to  let  the  poor  widow  sink,  so  as  to  prevent  her 
reaping  any  benefit  from  a  late  repentance.  But  the  Government  has 
brought  them  back  to  the  regard  of  their  law,  and  only  permit  the 
burning  to  go  on  when  the  pile  is  constructed  with  full  opportunity 
of  a  locus  penitentice.  Yet  the  widow  is  so  degraded  if  she  dare  to 
survive,  that  the  number  of  burnings  is  still  great.  The  quantity  of 
female  children  destroyed  by  the  Rajput  tribes  Colonel  R.  describes 
as  very  great  indeed.  They  are  strangled  by  the  mother.  The  prin- 
ciple is  the  aristocratic  pride  of  these  high  castes,  who  breed  up  no 
more  daughters  than  they  can  reasonably  hope  to  find  matches  for  in 
their  own  tribe.  Singular  how  artificial  systems  of  feeling  can  be 
made  to  overcome  that  love  of  offspring  which  seems  instinctive  in 
the  females,  not  of  the  human  race  only,  but  of  the  lower  animals. 
This  is  the  reverse  of  our  system  of  increasing  game  by  shooting  the 
old  cock-birds.  It  is  a  system  would  aid  Malthus  rarely. 

Nota  bene,  the  day  before  yesterday  I  signed  the  bond  for  £5000, 
with  Constable,  for  relief  of  Robinson's  house.1  I  am  to  be  secured 
by  good  bills. 

I  think  this  journal  will  suit  me  well.  If  I  can  coax  myself  into 
an  idea  that  it  is  purely  voluntary,  it  may  go  on — \Nulla  dies  sine 
lined.  But  never  a  being,  from  my  infancy  upwards,  hated  task-work 
as  I  hate  it ;  and  yet  I  have  done  a  great  deal  in  my  day.  It  is  not 
that  I  am  idle  in  my  nature  neither.  But  propose  to  me  to  do  one 
thing,  and  it  is  inconceivable  the  desire  I  have  to  do  something  else 
— not  that  it  is  more  easy  or  more  pleasant,  but  just  because  it  is 
escaping  from  an  imposed  task.  I  cannot  trace  this  love  of  contra- 
diction to  any  distinct  source,  but  it  has  haunted  me  all  my  life.  I 
could  almost  suppose  it  was  mechanical,  and  that  the  imposition  of 
a  piece  of  duty-labour  operated  on  me  like  the  mace  of  a  bad  billiard- 

i  See  ante,  p.  12.    Mr.  James  Ballantyne  and      Sir  Walter  in  the  propriety  of  assisting  Uobin- 
Mr.  Cadell  concurred  with  Mr.  Cqnstabjo  and      sop. 


DEC.  1825.]  JOURNAL  21 

player,  which  gives  an  impulse  to  the  ball  indeed,  but  sends  it  off  at 
a  tangent  different  from  the  course  designed  by  the  player.  Now,  if 
I  expend  such  eccentric  movements  on  this  journal,  it  will  be  turn- 
ing this  wretched  propensity  to  some  tolerable  account.  If  I  had 
thus  employed  the  nours  and  half -hours  which  I  have  whiled  away 
in  putting  off  something  that  must  needs  be  done  at  last,  "  My  Con- 
science !"  I  should  have  had  a  journal  with  a  witness.  Sophia  and 
Lockhart  came  to  Edinburgh  to-day  and  dined  with  us,  meeting  Hec- 
tor Macdonald  Buchanan,  his  lady,  and  Missie,  James  Skene  and  his 
lady,  Lockhart's  friend  Cay,  etc.  They  are  lucky  to  be  able  to  assem- 
ble so  many  real  friends,  whose  good  wishes,  I  am  sure,  will  follow 
them  in  their  new  undertaking. 

December  2. — Rather  a  blank  day  for  the  Gurnal.  Correcting 
proofs  in  the  morning.  Court  from  half-past  ten  till  two ;  poor  dear 
Colin  Mackenzie,  one  of  the  wisest,  kindest,  and  best  men  of  his 
time,  in  the  country, — 1  fear  with  very  indifferent  health.  From  two 
till  three  transacting  business  with  J.  B. ;  all  seems  to  go  smoothly. 
Sophia  dined  with  us  alone,  Lockhart  being  gone  to  the  west  to  bid 
farewell  to  his  father  and  brothers.  Evening  spent  in  talking  with 
Sophia  on  their  future  prospects.  God  bless  her,  poor  girl !  she  never 
gave  me  a  moment's  reason  to  complain  of  her.  But,  O  my  God ! 
that  poor  delicate  child,  so  clever,  so  animated,  yet  holding  by  this 
earth  with  so  fearfully  slight  a  tenure.  Never  out  of  his  mother's 
thoughts,  almost  never  out  of  his  father's  arms  when  he  has  but  a  sin- 
gle moment  to  give  to  anything.  Deus  providebit. 

December  3. — -R.  P.  G.1  came  to  call  last  night  to  excuse  himself 
from  dining  with  Lockhart's  friends  to-day.  I  really  fear  he  is  near 
an  actual  standstill.  He  has  been  extremely  improvident.  When  I 
first  knew  him  he  had  an  excellent  estate,  and  now  he  is  deprived,  I 
fear,  of  the  whole  reversion  of  the  price,  and  this  from  no  vice  or  ex- 
treme, except  a  wasteful  mode  of  buying  pictures  and  other  costly 
trifles  at  high  prices,  and  selling  them  again  for  nothing,  besides  an 
extravagant  housekeeping  and  profuse  hospitality.  An  excellent  dis- 
position, with  a  considerable  fund  of  acquired  knowledge,  would  have 
rendered  him  an  agreeable  companion,  had  he  not  affected  singular- 
ity, and  rendered  himself  accordingly  singularly  affected.  He  was 
very  near  being  a  poet — but  a  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  and  he  al- 
ways fell  short  of  the  mark.  I  knew  him  first,  many  years  ago,  when 
he  was  desirous  of  my  acquaintance  ;  but  he  was  too  poetical  for  me, 
or  I  was  not  poetical  enough  for  him,  so  that  we  continued  only  or- 
dinary acquaintance,  with  goodwill  on  either  side,  which  R.  P.  G. 

i  Robert  Pierce  Gillies,  once  proprietor  of  a  liest  but  most  persevering  of  my  friends— per- 
good  estate  in  Kincardineshire,  and  member  of  severing  in  spite  of  my  waywardness. "— Me- 
the  Scotch  Bar.  It  is  pleasant  to  find  Mr.  Gil-  moirs  n/a  Literary  Veteran,  including  Sketch- 
lies  expressing  his  gratitude  for  what  Sir  Wai-  es  and  Anecdotes  of  the  most  distinguished 
ter  had  done  for  him  more  than  twenty-five  Literary  Characters  from  1794  to  1849  (3  vols., 
years  after  this  paragraph  was  written.  "  lie  London,  1851),  voL  i.  p.  321.  Mr.  Gillies  did  i:i 
was,-'  says  R.  P.  G.,  ilnot  only  among  the  ear-  1861. 


22  JOURNAL  PEC. 

really  deserves,  as  a  more  friendly,  generous  creature  never  lived. 
Lockhart  hopes  to  get  something  done  for  him,  being  sincerely  at- 
tached to  him,  but  says  he  has  no  hopes  till  he  is  utterly  ruined. 
That  point,  I  fear,  is  not  far  distant;  but  what  Lockhart  can  do  for 
him  then  I  cannot  guess.  His  last  effort  failed,  owing  to  a  curious 
reason.  He  had  made  some  translations  from  the  German,  which  he 
does  extremely  [well] — for  give  him  ideas  and  he  never  wants  choice 
of  good  words — and  Lockhart  had  got  Constable  to  offer  some  sort 
of  terms  for  them.  R.  P.  G.  has  always,  though  possessing  a  beauti- 
ful power  of  handwriting,  had  some  whim  or  other  about  imitating 
that  of  some  other  person,  and  has  written  for  months  in  the  imita- 
tion of  one  or  other  of  his  friends.  At  present  he  has  renounced  this 
amusement,  and  chooses  to  write  with  a  brush  upon  large  cartridge 
paper,  somewhat  in  the  Chinese  fashion, — so  when  his  work,  which 
was  only  to  extend  to  one  or  two  volumes,  arrived  on  the  shoulders 
of  two  porters,  in  immense  bales,  our  jolly  bibliopolist  backed  out  of 
the  treaty,  and  would  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  R.  P.1  He  is  a 
creature  that  is,  or  would  be  thought,  of  imagination  all  compact,  and 
is  influenced  by  strange  whims.  But  he  is  a  kind,  harmless,  friend- 
ly soul,  and  I  fear  has  been  cruelly  plundered  of  money,  which  he 
now  wants  sadly. 

Dined  with  Lockhart's  friends,  about  fifty  in  number,  who  gave 
him  a  parting  entertainment.  John  Hope,  Solicitor-General,  in  the 
chair,  and  Robert  Dundas  [of  Arniston],  croupier.  The  company  most 
highly  respectable,  and  any  man  might  be  proud  of  such  an  indica- 
tion of  the  interest  they  take  in  his  progress  in  life.  Tory  principles 
rather  too  violently  upheld  by  some  speakers.  I  came  home  about 
ten  ;  the  party  sat  late. 

December  4. — Lockhart  and  Sophia,  with  his  brother  William, 
dined  with  us,  and  talked  over  our  separation,  and  the  mode  of  their 
settling  in  London,  and  other  family  topics. 

December  5. — This  morning  Lockhart  and  Sophia  left  us  early, 
and  without  leave-taking;  when  I  rose  at  eight  o'clock  they  were 
gone.  This  was  very  right.  I  hate  red  eyes  and  blowing  of  noses. 
Agere  et  pati  Romanum  est.  Of  all  schools  commend  me  to  the  Sto- 
ics. We  cannot  indeed  overcome  our  affections,  nor  ought  we  if  we 
could,  but  we  may  repress  them  within  due  bounds,  and  avoid  coax- 
ing them  to  make  fools  of  those  who  should  be  their  masters.  I  have 
lost  some  of  the  comforts  to  which  I  chiefly  looked  for  enjoyment. 
Well,  I  must  make  the  more  of  such  that  remain — God  bless  them. 
And  so  "  I  will  unto  my  holy  work  again,"2  which  at  present  is  the 
description  of  that  heilige  Kleeblatt,  that  worshipful  triumvirate,  Dan- 
ton,  Robespierre,  and  Marat.' 

i  Mr.  Gillies  was,  however,  warmly  welcomed  3  vols.     Its  failure  with  the  public  prevented  a 

by  another  publisher  in  Edinburgh,  who  paid  repetition  of  the  experiment  I 
him  £100  for  his  bulky  MSS.,  and  issued  the 

book  in  1825  under  the  title  of  The  Magic  Ring,  a  King  Richard  III.,  Act  in.  Sc.  7.— 1.  G.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  23 

I  cannot  conceive  what  possesses  me,  over  every  person  besides, 
to  mislay  papers.  I  received  a  letter  Saturday  at  e'en,  enclosing  a  bill 
for  £750  ;  no  deaf  nuts.  Well,  I  read  it,  and  note  the  contents;  and 
this  day,  as  if  it  had  been  a  wind-bill  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  words, 
I  search  everywhere,  and  lose  three  hours  of  my  morning — turn  over 
all  my  confusion  in  the  writing-desk — break  open  one  or  two  letters, 
lest  I  should  have  enclosed  the  sweet  and  quickly  convertible  docu- 
ment in  them, — send  for  a  joiner,  and  disorganise  my  scrutoire,  lest 
it  should  have  fallen  aside  by  mistake.  I  find  it  at  last — the  place 
where  is  of  little  consequence ;  but  this  trick  must  be  amended. 

Dined  at  the  Royal  Society  Club,  where,  as  usual,  was  a  pleasant 
meeting  of  from  twenty  to  twenty-five.  It  is  a  very  good  institution  ; 
we  pay  two  guineas  only  for  six  dinners  in  the  year,  present  or  ab- 
sent. Dine  at  five,  or  rather  half-past  five,  at  the  Royal  Hotel,  where 
we  have  an  excellent  dinner,  with  soups,  fish,  etc.,  and  all  in  good  or- 
der ;  port  and  sherry  till  half-past  seven,  then  coffee,  and  we  go  to  the 
Society.  This  has  great  influence  in  keeping  up  the  attendance,  it 
being  found  that  this  preface  of  a  good  dinner,  to  be  paid  for  wheth- 
er you  partake  or  not,  brings  out  many  a  philosopher  who  might  not 
otherwise  have  attended  the  Society.  Harry  Mackenzie,  now  in  his 
eighty-second  or  third  year,  read  part  of  an  Essay  on  Dreams.  Supped 
at  Dr.  Russell's  usual  party,1  which  shall  serve  for  one  while. 

December  6. — A  rare  thing  this  literature,  or  love  of  fame  or  noto- 
riety which  accompanies  it.  Here  is  Mr.  H[enry]  Mackenzie]  on  the 
very  brink  of  human  dissolution,  as  actively  anxious  about  it  as  if  the 
curtain  must  not  soon  be  closed  on  that  and  everything  else.4  He 
calls  me  his  literary  confessor;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  glad  to  return 
the  kindnesses  which  he  showed  me  long  since  in  George  Square. 
No  man  is  less  known  from  his  writings.  We  would  suppose  a  re- 
tired, modest,  somewhat  affected  man,  with  a  white  handkerchief,  and 
a  sigh  ready  for  every  sentiment.  No  such  thing :  H.  M.  is  alert  as 
a  contracting  tailor's  needle  in  every  sort  of  business — a  politician 
and  a  sportsman — shoots  and  fishes  in  a  sort  even  to  this  day — and 
is  the  life  of  the  company  with  anecdote  and  fun.  Sometimes,  his 
daughter  tells  me,  he  is  in  low  spirits  at  home,  but  really  I  never  see 
anything  of  it  in  society. 

There  is  a  maxim  almost  universal  in  Scotland,  which  I  should 
like  much  to  see  controlled.  Every  youth,  of  every  temper  and  al- 
most every  description  of  character,  is  sent  either  to  study  for  the 
bar,  or  to  a  writer's  office  as  an  apprentice.  The  Scottish  seem  to 
conceive  Themis  the  most  powerful  of  goddesses.  Is  a  lad  stupid, 

'  Of  the  many  Edinburgh  suppers  of  this  pe-  and  are  occasionally  mentioned  in  the  Journal, 

riod,  commemorated  by  Lord  Cockburn,  not  the  Dr.  Russell  died  in  1836. 
least  pleasant  were  the  friendly  gatherings  in          a  Mr.  Mackenzie  had  been  consulting  Sir  Wal- 

30  Abercromby  Place,  the  town  house  of  Dr.  ter  about  collecting  his  own  juvenile  poetry.— 

James  Russell,  Professor  of  Clinical  Surgery.  j.  G.  L.     Though  the  venerable  author  of  The 

They  were  given  fortnightly  after  the  meet-  Man  of  Feeling  did  not  die  till  1831,  he  does 

ings  of  the  Royal  Society  during  the  Session,  not  appear  to  have  carried  out  his  intention. 


24  JOURNAL  PEC. 

the  law  will  sharpen  him  ; — is  he  too  mercurial,  the  law  will  make  him 
sedate  ; — has  he  -an  estate,  he  may  get  a  sheriff  dom  ; — is  he  poor,  the 
richest  lawyers  have  emerged  from  poverty ; — is  he  a  Tory,  he  may 
become  a  depute-advocate ;  —  is  he  a  Whig,  he  may  with  far  better 
hope  expect  to  become,  in  reputation  at  least,  that  rising  counsel  Mr. 

,  when  in  fact  he  only  rises  at  tavern  dinners.    Upon  some  such 

wild  views  lawyers  and  writers  multiply  till  there  is  no  life  for  them, 
and  men  give  up  the  chase,  hopeless  and  exhausted,  and  go  into  the 
army  at  five-and-twenty,  instead  of  eighteen,  with  a  turn  for  expense 
perhaps — almost  certainly  for  profligacy,  and  with  a  heart  embittered 
against  the  loving  parents  or  friends  who  compelled  them  to  lose  six 
or  seven  years  in  dusting  the  rails  of  the  stair  with  their  black  gowns, 
or  scribbling  nonsense  for  twopence  a  page  all  day,  and  laying  out 
twice  their  earnings  at  night  in  whisky-punch.  Here  is  R.  L.  now. 
Four  or  five  years  ago,  from  certain  indications,  I  assured  his  friends 
he  would  never  be  a  writer.  Good-natured  lad,  too,  when  Bacchus  is 
out  of  the  question;  but  at  other  times  so  pugnacious,  that  it  was 
wished  he  could  only  be  properly  placed  where  fighting  was  to  be 
a  part  of  his  duty,  regulated  by  time  and  place,  and  paid  for  accord- 
ingly. Well,  time,  money,  and  instruction  have  been  thrown  away, 
and  now,  after  fighting  two  regular  boxing  matches  and  a  duel  with 
pistols  in  the  course  of  one  week,  he  tells  them  roundly  he  will  be  no 
writer,  which  common-sense  might  have  told  them  before.  He  has 
now  perhaps  acquired  habits  of  insubordination,  unfitting  him  for  the 
army,  where  he  might  have  been  tamed  at  an  earlier  period.  He  is 
too  old  for  the  navy,  and  so  he  must  go  to  India,  a  guinea-pig  on  board 
a  Chinaman,  with  what  hope  or  view  it  is  melancholy  to  guess.  His 
elder  brother  did  all  man  could  to  get  his  friends  to  consent  to  his 
going  into  the  army  in  time.  The  lad  has  good-humor,  courage,  and 
most  gentlemanlike  feelings,  but  he  is  incurably  dissipated,  I  hear ;  so 
goes  to  die  in  youth  in  a  foreign  land.  Thank  God,  I  let  Walter  take 
his  own  way  ;  and  I  trust  he  will  be  a  useful,  honoured  soldier,  being, 
for  his  time,  high  in  the  service  ;  whereas  at  home  he  would  probably 
have  been  a  wine-bibbing,  moorf owl-shooting,  fox-hunting  Fife  squire 
— living  at  Lochore  without  either  aim  or  end — and  well  if  he  were 
no  worse.  Dined  at  home  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne.  Wrote  in  the 
evening. 

December  7. — Teind  day ;' — at  home  of  course.  Wrote  answers 
to  one  or  two  letters  which  have  been  lying  on  my  desk  like  snakes, 
hissing  at  me  for  my  dilatoriness.  Bespoke  a  tun  of  palrn-oil  for  Sir 
John  Forbes.  Received  a  letter  from  Sir  W.  Knighton,  mentioning 
that  the  King  acquiesced  in  my  proposal  that  Constable's  Miscellany 


1  Every   alternate  Wednesday    during   the  ular  affairs  of  the  Church  of  Scotland.    As  the 

Winter  and  Summer  sessions,  the  Lords  Com-  Teind  Court  has  a  separate  establishment  of 

missioners  of  Teinds  (Tithes),  consisting  of  a  clerks  and  officers,  Sir  Walter  was  freed  from 

certain  number  of  the  judges,  held  a  "Teind  duty  at  the  Parliament  House  on  these  days. 

Court " — for  hearing  cases  relating  to  the  sec-  The  Court  now  sits  on  alternate  Mondays  only. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  25 

should  be  dedicated  to  him.  Enjoined,  however,  not  to  make  this 
public,  till  the  draft  of  dedication  shall  be  approved.  This  letter  tar- 
ried so  long,  I  thought  some  one  had  insinuated  the  proposal  was 
infra,  dig.  I  don't  think  so.  The  purpose  is  to  bring  all  the  stand- 
ard works,  both  in  sciences  and  the  liberal  arts,  within  the  reach  of 
the  lower  classes,  and  enable  them  thus  to  use  with  advantage  the 
education  which  is  given  them  at  every  hand.  To  make  boys  learn 
to  read,  and  then  place  no  good  books  within  their  reach,  is  to  give 
men  an  appetite,  and  leave  nothing  in  the  pantry  save  unwholesome 
and  poisonous  food,  which,  depend  upon  it,  they  will  eat  rather  than 
starve.  Sir  William,  it  seems,  has  been  in  Germany. 

Mighty  dark  this  morning ;  it  is  past  ten,  and  I  am  using  my 
lamp.  The  vast  number  of  houses  built  beneath  us  to  the  north  cer- 
tainly render  our  street  darker  during  the  days  when  frost  or  haze 
prevents  the  smoke  from  rising.  After  all,  it  may  be  my  older  eyes. 
I  remember  two  years  ago,  when  Lord  H.  began  to  fail  somewhat  in 
his  limbs,  he  observed  that  Lord  S.1  came  to  Court  at  a  more  early 
hour  than  usual,  whereas  it  was  he  himself  who  took  longer  time  to 
walk  the  usual  distance  betwixt  his  house  and  the  Parliament  Square. 
I  suspect  old  gentlemen  often  make  such  mistakes.  A  letter  from 
Southey  in  a  very  pleasant  strain  as  to  Lockhart  and  myself.  Of 
Murray  he  has  perhaps  ground  to  complain  as  well  for  consulting  him 
late  in  the  business,  as  for  the  manner  in  which  he  intimated  to  young 
Coleridge,  who  had  no  reason  to  think  himself  handsomely  treated, 
though  he  has  acquiesced  in  the  arrangement  in  a  very  gentlemanlike 
tone.  With  these  matters  we,  of  course,  have  nothing  to  do  ;  having 
no  doubt  that  the  situation  was  vacant  when  M.  offered  it  as  such. 
Southey  says,  in  alteration  of  Byron's  phrase,  that  M.  is  the  most 
timorous,  not  of  God's,  but  of  the  devil's,  booksellers.  The  truth  I 
take  to  be  that  Murray  was  pushed  in  the  change  of  Editor  (which 
was  really  become  necessary)  probably  by  Gifford,  Canning,  Ellis,  etc. ; 
and  when  he  had  fixed  with  Lockhart  by  their  advice  his  constitution- 
al nervousness  made  him  delay  entering  upon  a  full  explanation  with 
Coleridge.  But  it  is  all  settled  now — I  hope  Lockhart  will  be  able  to 
mitigate  their  High  Church  bigotry.  It  is  not  for  the  present  day, 
savouring  too  much  of.  jure  divino. 

Dined  quiet  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne.  Anne  is  practising  Scots 
songs,  which  I  take  as  a  kind  compliment  to  my  own  taste,  as  hers 
leads  her  chiefly  to  foreign  music.  I  think  the  good  girl  sees  that  I 
want  and  must  miss  her  sister's  peculiar  talent  in  singing  the  airs  of 
our  native  country,  which,  imperfect  as  my  musical  ear  is,  make,  and 
always  have  made,  the  most  pleasing  impression  on  me.  And  so  if 
she  puts  a  constraint  on  herself  for  my  sake,  I  can  only  say,  in  re- 
quital, God  bless  her. 

I  have  much  to  comfort  me  in  the  present  aspect  of  my  family. 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  suggests  Lords  Hermand  and      and  the  latter  at  1  Park  Place. 
Succoth.  the  former  living  at  124  George  Street, 


26  JOURNAL  PKC. 

My  eldest  son,  independent  in  fortune,  united  to  an  affectionate  wife 
— and  of  good  hopes  in  his  profession ;  my  second,  with  a  good  deal 
of  talent,  and  in  the  way,  I  trust,  of  cultivating  it  to  good  purpose  ; 
Anne,  an  honest,  downright,  good  Scots  lass,  in  whom  I  would  only 
wish  to  correct  a  spirit  of  satire ;  and  Lockhart  is  Lockhart,  to  whom 
I  can  most  willingly  confide  the  happiness  of  the  daughter  who  chose 
him,  and  whom  he  has  chosen.  My  dear  wife,  the  partner  of  early 
cares  and  successes,  is,  I  fear,  frail  in  health — though  I  trust  and  pray 
she  may  see  me  out.  Indeed,  if  this  troublesome  complaint  goes  on 
— it  bodes  no  long  existence.  My  brother  was  affected  with  the  same 
weakness,  which,  before  he  was  fifty,  brought  on  mortal  symptoms. 
The  poor  Major  had  been  rather  a  free  liver.  But  my  father,  the 
most  abstemious  of  men,  save  when  the  duties  of  hospitality  required 
him  to  be  very  moderately  free  with  his  bottle,  and  that  was  very  sel- 
dom, had  the  same  weakness  which  now  annoys  me,  and  he,  I  think, 
was  not  above  seventy  when  cut  off.  Square  the  odds,  and  good-night 
Sir  Walter  about  sixty.  I  care  not,  if  I  leave  my  name  unstained,  and 
my  family  properly  settled.  Sat  cst  vixisse. 

December  8. — Talking  of  the  vixisse,  it  may  not  be  impertinent  to 
notice  that  Knox,  a  young  poet  of  considerable  talent,  died  here  a 
week  or  two  since.  His  father  was  a  respectable  yeoman,  and  he 
himself,  succeeding  to  good  farms  under  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  be- 
came too  soon  his  own  master,  and  plunged  into  dissipation  and  ruin. 
His  poetical  talent,  a  very  fine  one,  then  showed  itself  in  a  fine  strain 
of  pensive  poetry,  called,  I  think,  The  Lonely  Hearth,  far  superior  to 
those  of  Michael  Bruce,  whose  consumption,  by  the  way,  has  been  the 
life  of  his  verses.  But  poetry,  nay,  good  poetry,  is  a  drug  in  the  pres- 
ent day.  I  am  a  wretched  patron.  I  cannot  go  with  a  subscription- 
paper,  like  a  pocket-pistol  about  me,  and  draw  unawares  on  some  hon- 
est country-gentleman,  who  has  as  much  alarm  as  if  I  had  used  the 
phrase,  "stand  and  deliver,"  and  parts  with  his  money  with  a  grimace, 
indicating  some  suspicion  that  the  crown-piece  thus  levied  goes  ulti- 
mately into  the  collector's  own  pocket.  This  I  see  daily  done ;  and 
I  have  seen  such  collectors,  when  they  have  exhausted  Papa  and 
Mamma,  continue  their  trade  among  the  misses,  and  conjure  out  of 
their  pockets  those  little  funds  which  should  carry  them  to  a  play  or 
an  assembly.  It  is  well  people  will  go  through  this — it  does  some 
good,  I  suppose,  and  they  have  great  merit  who  can  sacrifice  their 
pride  so  far  as  to  attempt  it  in  this  way.  For  my  part,  I  am  a  bad 
promoter  of  subscriptions ;  but  I  wished  to  do  what  I  could  for  this 
lad,  whose  talent  I  really  admired ;  and  I  am  not  addicted  to  admire 
heaven-born  poets,  or  poetry  that  is  reckoned  very  good  considering. 
I  had  him,  Knox,1  at  Abbotsford,  about  ten  years  ago,  but  found  him 

»  William  Knox  died  12th  November.     He  Anderson,  junior,  of  Edinburgh)    remembers 

had  published  Songs  of  Israel,  1824,  A  Visit  to  that  Sir  Walter  occasionally  wrote  to  Knox  and 

Dublin,  1824,  The  'Harp  of  Zion,  1825,  etc.,  be-  sent  him  money— £10  at  a  time.— J.  G.  U 
sides  The  Lonely  Hearth.     His  publisher  (Mr. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  27 

unfit  for  that  sort  of  society.  I  tried  to  help  him,  but  there  were 
temptations  he  could  never  resist.  He  scrambled  on,  writing  for  the 
booksellers  and  magazines,  and  living  like  the  Otways,  and  Savages, 
and  Chattertons  of  former  days,  though  I  do  not  know  that  he  was 
in  actual  want.  His  connection  with  me  terminated  in  begging  a 
subscription  or  a  guinea  now  and  then.  His  last  works  were  spirit- 
ual hymns,  and  which  he  wrote  very  well.  In  his  own  line  of  society 
he  was  said  to  exhibit  infinite  humour ;  but  all  his  works  are  grave 
and  pensive,  a  style  perhaps,  like  Master  Stephen's  melancholy,1  af- 
fected for  the  nonce. 

Mrs.  G[rant]  of  L.  intimates  that  she  will  take  her  pudding — her 
pension,  I  mean  (see  30th  November),  and  is  contrite,  as  H[enry] 
M[ackenzie]  vouches.  I  am  glad  the  stout  old  girl  is  not  foreclosed ; 
faith,  cabbing  a  pension  in  these  times  is  like  hunting  a  pig  with  a 
soap'd  tail,  monstrous  apt  to  slip  through  your  fingers.3  Dined  at 
home  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne. 

December  9. — Yesterday  I  read  and  wrote  the  whole  day  and  even- 
ing. To-day  I  shall  not  be  so  happy.  Having  Gas-Light  Company 
to  attend  at  two,  I  must  be  brief  in  journalising. 

The  gay  world  has  been  kept  in  hot  water  lately  by  the  impudent 
publication  of  the  celebrated  Harriet  Wilson, from  earliest  possi- 
bility, I  supposed,  who  lived  with  half  the  gay  world  at  hack  and 
manger,  and  now  obliges  such  as  will  not  pay  hush-money  with  a  his- 
tory of  whatever  she  knows  or  can  invent  about  them.  She  must  have 
been  assisted  in  the  style,  spelling,  and  diction,  though  the  attempt  at 
wit  is  very  poor,  that  at  pathos  sickening.  But  there  is  some  good 
retailing  of  conversations,  in  which  the  style  of  the  speakers,  so  far  as 
known  to  me,  is  exactly  imitated,  and  some  things  told,  as  said  by  in- 
dividuals of  each  other,  which  will  sound  unpleasantly  in  each  other's 

ears.  I  admire  the  address  of  Lord  A y,  himself  very  severely 

handled  from  time  to  time.  Some  one  asked  him  if  H.  W.  had  been 
pretty  correct  on  the  whole.  "  Why,  faith,"  he  replied,  "  I  believe 
so" — when,  raising  his  eyes,  he  saw  Quentin  Dick,  whom  the  little  jilt 
had  treated  atrociously — "  what  concerns  the  present  company  always 

excepted,  you  know,"  added  Lord  A y,  with  infinite  presence  of 

mind.  As  he  was  in  pari  casu  with  Q.  D.  no  more  could  be  said. 
After  all,  H.  W.  beats  Con  Philips,  Anne  Bellamy,  and  all  former  dem- 
ireps out  and  out.  I  think  I  supped  once  in  her  company,  more 
than  twenty  years  since,  at  Mat  Lewis's  in  Argyle  Street,  where  the 
company,  as  the  Duke  says  to  Lucio,  chanced  to  be  "  fairer  than 
honest."  3  She  was  far  from  beautiful,  if  it  be  the  same  chiffonne,  but 
a  smart  saucy  girl,  with  good  eyes  and  dark  hair,  and  the  manners  of 
a  wild  schoolboy.  I  am  glad  this  accidental  meeting  has  escaped  her 

1  In  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  Hu-      a  handsome  legacy  came  to  her  from  an  unex- 
mour.  pected  quarter.     Memoir  and  Correspondence, 

2  Providence  was  kinder  to  the  venerable      Lond.  1845,  vol.  iii.  p.  71. 

lady  than  the  Government,  as  at  this  juncture          2  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  iv.  Sc.  3.— J.  G.  L 


28  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

memory — or,  perhaps,  is  not  accurately  recorded  in  mine — for,  being 
a  sort  of  French  falconer,  who  hawk  at  all  they  see,  I  might  have  had 
a  distinction  which  I  am  far  from  desiring. 

Dined  at  Sir  John  Hay's — a  large  party  ;  Skenes  there,  the  New- 
enhams  and  others,  strangers.  In  the  morning  a  meeting  of  Oil  Gas 
Committee.  The  concern  lingers  a  little  ; 

"  It  may  do  weel,  for  ought  it's  done  yet, 
But  only — it's  no  just  begun  yet."  * 

December  10. — A  stormy  and  rainy  day.  Walked  from  the  Court 
through  the  rain.  I  don't  dislike  this.  Egad,  I  rather  like  it;  for  no 
man  that  ever  stepped  on  heather  has  less  dread  than  I  of  catch-cold  ; 
and  I  seem  to  regain,  in  buffeting  with  the  wind,  a  little  of  the  high 
spirit  with  which,  in  younger  days,  I  used  to  enjoy  a  Tam-o'-Shanter 
ride  through  darkness,  wind,  and  rain, — the  boughs  groaning  and 
cracking  over  my  head,  the  good  horse  free  to  the  road  and  impatient 
for  home,  and  feeling  the  weather  as  little  as  I  did. 

"  The  storm  around  might  roar  and  rustle, 
We  didna  mind  the  storm  a  whistle." 

Answered  two  letters — one,  answer  to  a  schoolboy, who  writes  him- 
self Captain  of  Giggleswick  School  (a  most  imposing  title),  entreating 
the  youngster  not  to  commence  editor  of  a  magazine  to  be  entitled 
the  "  Yorkshire  Muffin,"  I  think,  at  seventeen  years  old  ;  second,  to  a 
soldier  of  the  79th,  showing  why  I  cannot  oblige  him  by  getting  his 
discharge,  and  exhorting  him  rather  to  bear  with  the  wickedness  and 
profanity  of  the  service,  than  take  the  very  precarious  step  of  deser- 
tion. This  is  the  old  receipt  of  Durandarte — Patience,  cousin,  and 
shuffle  the  cards;*  and  I  suppose  the  correspondents  will  think  I  have 
been  too  busy  in  offering  my  counsel  where  I  was  asked  for  assist- 
ance. 

A  third  rogue  writes  to  tell  me — rather  of  the  latest,  if  the  matter 
was  of  consequence — that  he  approves  of  the  first  three  volumes  of 
the  H[eart\  of  Midlothian,  but  totally  condemns  the  fourth.  Doubtless 
he  thinks  his  opinion  worth  the  sevenpence  sterling  which  his  letter 
costs.  However,  authors  should  be  reasonably  well  pleased  when 
three-fourths  of  their  work  are  acceptable  to  the  reader.  The  knave 
demands  of  me  in  a  postscript,  to  get  back  the  sword  of  Sir  W[illiam] 
Wallace  from  England,  where  it  was  carried  from  Dumbarton  Castle. 
I  am  not  Master-General  of  the  Ordnance,  that  I  know.  It  was  wrong, 
however,  to  take  away  that  and  Mons  Meg.  If  I  go  to  town  this 
spring,  I  will  renew  my  negotiation  with  the  Great  Duke  for  recovery 
of  Mons  Meg. 

There  is  no  theme  more  awful  than  to  attempt  to  cast  a  glance 

1  Burns's  Dedication  to  Gavin  Hamilton. —          *  Don  Quixote,  Pt.  u.  ch.  23. 

7.0.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  29 

among  the  clouds  and  mists  which  hide  the  broken  extremity  of  the 
celebrated  bridge  of  Mirza.1  Yet,  when  every  day  brings  us  nearer 
that  termination,  one  would  almost  think  that  our  views  should  be- 
come clearer,  as  the  regions  we  are  approaching  are  brought  nigher. 
Alas !  it  is  not  so :  there  is  a  curtain  to  be  withdrawn,  a  veil  to  be 
rent,  before  we  shall  see  things  as  they  really  are.  There  are  few,  I 
trust,  who  disbelieve  the  existence  of  a  God";  nay,  I  doubt  if  at  all 
times,  and  in  all  moods,  any  single  individual  ever  adopted  that  hide- 
ous creed,  though  some  have  professed  it.  With  the  belief  of  a  Deity, 
that  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  and  of  the  state  of  future  rewards 
and  punishments  is  indissolubly  linked.  More  we  are  not  to  know ; 
but  neither  are  we  prohibited  from  our  attempts,  however  vain,  to 
pierce  the  solemn  sacred  gloom.  The  expressions  used  in  Scripture 
are  doubtless  metaphorical,  for  penal  fires  and  heavenly  melody  are 
only  applicable  to  bodies  endowed  with  senses ;  and,  at  least  till  the 
period  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  the  spirits  of  men,  whether  en- 
tering into  the  perfection  of  the  just,  or  committed  to  the  regions  of 
punishment  are  incorporeal.  Neither  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  the 
glorified  bodies  which  shall  arise  in  the  last  day  will  be  capable  of  the 
same  gross  indulgences  with  which  they  are  now  solaced.  That  the 
idea  of  Mahomet's  paradise  is  inconsistent  with  the  purity  of  our  heav- 
enly religion  will  be  readily  granted ;  and  see  Mark  xii.  25.  Harmony 
is  obviously  chosen  as  the  least  corporeal  of  all  gratifications  of  the 
sense,  and  as  the  type  of  love,  unity,  and  a  state  of  peace  and  perfect 
happiness.  But  they  have  a  poor  idea  of  the  Deity,  and  the  rewards 
which  are  destined  for  the  just  made  perfect,  who  can  only  adopt  the 
literal  sense  of  an  eternal  concert — a  never-ending  Birthday  Ode.  I 
rather  suppose  there  should  be  understood  some  commission  from  the 
Highest,  some  duty  to  discharge  with  the  applause  of  a  satisfied  con- 
science. That  the  Deity,  who  himself  must  be  supposed  to  feel  love 
and  affection  for  the  beings  he  has  called  into  existence,  should  dele- 
gate a  portion  of  those  powers,  I  for  one  cannot  conceive  altogether 
so  wrong  a  conjecture.  We  would  then  find  reality  in  Milton's  sub- 
lime machinery  of  the  guardian  saints  or  genii  of  kingdoms.  Nay, 
we  would  approach  to  the  Catholic  idea  of  the  employment  of  saints, 
though  without  approaching  the  absurdity  of  saint-worship,  which  de- 
grades their  religion.  There  would  be,  we  must  suppose,  in  these 
employments  difficulties  to  be  overcome,  and  exertions  to  be  made, 
for  all  which  the  celestial  beings  employed  would  have  certain  appro- 
priate powers.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a  life  of  active  benevo- 
lence is  more  consistent  with  my  ideas  than  an  eternity  of  music. 
But  it  is  all  speculation,  and  it  is  impossible  even  to  guess  what  we 
shall  [do],  unless  we  could  ascertain  the  equally  difficult  previous 
question,  what  we  are  to  be.  But  there  is  a  God,  and  a  just  God — 
a  judgment  and  a  future  life — and  all  who  own  so  much  let  them  act 

>  Spectator,  Xo.  159.— J.  G.  L. 


30  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

according  to  the  faith  that  is  in  them.  I  would  [not],  of  course,  limit 
the  range  of  my  genii  to  this  confined  earth.  There  is  the  universe, 
with  all  its  endless  extent  of  worlds. 

Company  at  home — Sir  Adam  Ferguson  and  his  Lady ;  Colonel 
and  Miss  Russell;  Count  Davidoff,  and  Mr.  Collyer.  By  the  by, 
I  observe  that  all  men  whose  names  are  obviously  derived  from  some 
mechanical  trade,  endeavour  to  disguise  and  antiquate,  as  it  were, 
heir  names,  by  spelling  them  after  some  quaint  manner  or  other. 
Thus  we  have  Collyer,  Smythe,  Tailleure ;  as  much  as  to  say,  My 
ancestor  was  indeed  a  mechanic,  but  it  was  a  world  of  time  ago, 
when  the  word  was  spelled  very  [differently].  Then  we  had  young 
Whytbank  and  Will  Allan  the  artist,1  a  very  agreeable,  simple-man- 
nered, and  pleasant  man. 

December  11. — A  touch  of  the  morbus  eruditorum,  to  which  I  am 
as  little  subject  as  most  folks,  and  have  it  less  now  than  when  young. 
It  is  a  tremor  of  the  heart,  the  pulsation  of  which  becomes  painfully 
sensible — a  disposition  to  causeless  alarm — much  lassitude — and  de- 
cay of  vigour  of  mind  and  activity  of  intellect.  The  reins  feel  weary 
and  painful,  and  the  mind  is  apt  to  receive  and  encourage  gloomy 
apprehensions  and  causeless  fears.  Fighting  with  this  fiend  is  not 
always  the  best  way  to  conquer  him.  1  have  always  found  exercise 
and  the  open  air  better  than  reasoning.  But  such  weather  as  is  now 
without  doors  does  not  encourage  la  petite  f/uerre,  so  we  must  give 
him  battle  -in  form,  by  letting  both  mind  and  body  know  that,  sup- 
posing one  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  other  the  House  of  Peers, 
my  will  is  sovereign  over  both.  There  is  a  good  description  of  this 
species  of  mental  weakness  in  the  fine  play  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher 
called  The  Lover's  Progress,  where  the  man,  warned  that  his  death  is 
approaching,  works  himself  into  an  agony  of  fear,  and  calls  for  assist- 
ance, though  there  is  no  apparent  danger.  The  apparition  of  the 
innkeeper's  ghost,  in  the  same  play,  hovers  between  the  ludicrous  and 
[the  terrible].  To  me  the  touches  of  the  former  quality  which  it 
contains  seem  to  augment  the  effect  of  the  latter — they  seem  to  give 
reality  to  the  supernatural,  as  being  circumstances  with  which  an  in- 
ventor would  hardly  have  garnished  his  story.2 

Will  Clerk  says  he  has  a  theory  on  the  vitrified  forts.  I  wonder 
if  he  and  I  agree.  I  think  accidental  conflagration  is  the  cause. 

December  12. — Hogg  came  to  breakfast  this  morning,  having 
taken  and  brought  for  his  companion  the  Galashiels  bard,  David 
Thomson,3  as  to  a  meeting  of  "  buzz  Tividale  poets."  The  honest 
grunter  opines  with  a  delightful  naivete  that  Moore's  verses  are  far 
owre  .sweet — answered  by  Thomson  that  Moore's  ear  or  notes,  I  for- 


1  Sir  William  Allan,  President  of  the  Royal  3  For  notices  of  David  Thomson,  see  Life, 

Scottish  Academy  from  1838:  he  died  at  Edin-  October,  1822,  and  T.  Craig  Brown's  History  of 

burgh  in  1850.     '  Selkirkshire,  2  vols.  4to,  Edin.  1886,  vol.  i,  pp. 

*  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  8vo,  Lend.  1788,  505,  507,  and  519. 
vol.  v.  pp.  410-413,  419,  426. 


1825.J  JOURNAL  31 

get  which,  were  finely  strung.  "  They  are  far  owre  finely  strung," 
replied  he  of  the  Forest,  "  for  mine  are  just  reeght."  It  reminded 
me  of  Queen  Bess,  when  questioning  Melville  sharply  and  closely 
whether  Queen  [Mary]  was  taller  than  her,  and,  extracting  an  answer 
in  the  affirmative,  she  replied,  "  Then  your  Queen  is  too  tall,  for  I  am 
just  the  proper  height." 

Was  engaged  the  whole  day  with  Sheriff  Court  processes.  There 
is  something  sickening  in  seeing  poor  devils  drawn  into  great  expense 
about  trifles  by  interested  attorneys.  But  too  cheap  access  to  litiga- 
tion has  its  evils  on  the  other  hand,  for  the  proneness  of  the  lower 
class  to  gratify  spite  and  revenge  in  this  way  would  be  a  dreadful 
evil  were  they  able  to  endure  the  expense.  Very  few  cases  come  be- 
fore the  Sheriff-court  of  Selkirkshire  that  ought  to  come  anywhere. 
Wretched  wranglings  about  a  few  pounds,  begun  in  spleen,  and  car- 
ried on  from  obstinacy,  and  at  length  from  fear  of  the  conclusion  to 
the  banquet  of  ill-humour,  "D — n — n  of  expenses."1  I  try  to  check 
it  as  well  as  I  can ;  "  but  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone." 

December  12. — Dined  at  home,  and  spent  the  evening  in  writing 
— Anne  and  Lady  Scott  at  the  theatre  to  see  Mathews ;  a  very  clever 
man  my  friend  Mathews ;  but  it  is  tiresome  to  be  funny  for  a  whole 
evening,  so  I  was  content  and  stupid  at  home. 

An  odd  optical  delusion  has  amused  me  these  two  last  nights.  I 
have  been  of  late,  for  the  first  time,  condemned  to  the  constant  use 
of  spectacles.  Now,  when  I  have  laid  them  aside  to  step  into  a  room 
dimly  lighted,  out  of  the  strong  light  which  I  use  for  writing,  I  have 
seen,  or  seemed  to  see,  through  the  rims  of  the  same  spectacles  which 
I  have  left  behind  me.  At  first  the  impression  was  so  lively  that  I 
put  my  hand  to  my  eyes  believing  I  had  the  actual  spectacles  on  at 
the  moment.  But  what  I  saw  was  only  the  eidolon  or  image  of  said 
useful  servants.  This  fortifies  some  of  Dr.  Hibbert's  position's  about 
spectral  appearances. 

December  13. — Letter  from  Lady  Stafford  —  kind  and  friendly 
after  the  wont  of  Banzu-Mohr-ar-chat.a  This  is  wrong  spelled,  I 
know.  Her  countenance  is  something  for  Sophia,  whose  company 
should  be — as  ladies  are  said  to  choose  their  liquor — little  and  good. 
To  be  acquainted  with  persons  of  mere  ton  is  a  nuisance  and  a 
scrape — to  be  known  to  persons  of  real  fashion  and  fortune  is  in 
London  a  very  great  advantage.  She  is  besides  sure  of  the  hereditary 
and  constant  friendship  of  the  Buccleuch  ladies,  as  well  as  those  of 
Montagu  and  of  the  Harden  family,  of  the  Marchioness  of  Northamp- 
ton, Lady  Melville,  and  others,  also  the  Miss  Ardens,  upon  whose  kind 
offices  I  have  some  claim,  and  would  count  upon  them  whether  such 


1  Burns's  Address  to  the  Unco  Guid. — j.  G.  L.  lish  name  of  the  neighbouring  one,  Caithness. 

3  Banamhorar-Chat,i.  e.  the  Great  Lady  of  the  we  have  another  trace  of  the  early  settlement 

Cat,  is  the  Gaelic  title  of  the  Countess- Duchess  of  the  Clan  Chattan,  whose  chiefs  bear  the  cog- 

of  Sutherland.  The  county  of  Sutherland  it-  nisance  of  a  Wild  Cat.  The  Duchess-Countess 

self  is  in  that  dialect  Cattey,  and  in  the  Eng-  died  in  1838, — j.  G.  L. 


32  JOURNAL  PEC. 

claim  existed  or  no.  So  she  is  well  enough  established  among  the 
Right-hand  file,  which  is  very  necessary  in  London  where  second- 
rate  fashion  is  like  false  jewels. 

Went  to  the  yearly  court  of  the  Edinburgh  Assurance  Company, 
to  which  I  am  one  of  those  graceful  and  useless  appendages,  called 
Directors  Extraordinary — an  extraordinary  director  I  should  prove 
had  they  elected  me  an  ordinary  one.  There  were  there  moneyers 
and  great  oneyers,1  men  of  metal — discounters  and  counters — sharp, 
grave,  prudential  faces  —  eyes  weak  with  ciphering  by  lamplight — 
men  who  say  to  gold,  Be  thou  paper,  and  to  paper,  Be  thou  turned 
into  fine  gold.  Many  a  bustling,  sharp-faced,  keen-eyed  writer  too — 
some  perhaps  speculating  with  their  clients'  property.  My  reverend 
seigniors  had  expected  a  motion  for  printing  their  contract,  which  I,  as 
a  piece  of  light  artillery,  was  brought  down  and  got  into  battery  to 
oppose.  I  should  certainly  have  done  this  on  the  general  ground, 
that  while  each  partner  could  at  any  time  obtain  sight  of  the  contract 
at  a  call  on  the  directors  or  managers,  it  would  be  absurd  to  print  it 
for  the  use  of  the  Company — and  that  exposing  it  to  the  world  at 
large  was  in  all  respects  unnecessary,  and  might  teach  novel  com- 
panies to  avail  themselves  of  our  rules  and  calculations — if  false,  for 
the  purpose  of  exposing  our  errors — if  correct,  for  the  purpose  of 
improving  their  own  schemes  on  our  model.  But  my  eloquence  was 
not  required,  no  one  renewing  the  motion  under  question ;  so  off  I 
came,  my  ears  still  ringing  with  the  sounds  of  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands,  and  my  eyes  dazzled  with  the  golden  gleam  offered  by  so 
many  capitalists. 

Walked  home  with  the  Solicitor2 — decidedly  the  most  hopeful 
young  man  of  his  time  ;  high  connection,  great  talent,  spirited  ambi- 
tion, a  ready  and  prompt  elocution,  with  a  good  voice  and, dignified 
manner,  prompt  and  steady  courage,  vigilant  and  constant  assiduity, 
popularity  with  the  young  men,  and  the  good  opinion  of  the  old,  will, 
if  I  mistake  not,  carry  him  as  [high  as]  any  man  who  has  been  since 
the  days  of  old  Hal  Dundas.8  He  is  hot  though,  and  rather  hasty : 
this  should  be  amended.  They  who  would  play  at  single-stick  must 
bear  with  patience  a  rap  over  the  knuckles.  Dined  quietly  with  Lady 
Scott  and  Anne. 

December  14. — Affairs  very  bad  in  the  money-market  in  London. 
It  must  come  here,  and  I  have  far  too  many  engagements  not  to  feel 
it.  To  end  the  matter  at  once,  I  intend  to  borrow  £10,000,  with 
which  my  son's  marriage-contract  allows  me  to  charge  my  estate.  At 
Whitsunday  and  Martinmas  I  will  have  enough  to  pay  up  the  incum- 
brance  of  £3000  due  to  old  Moss's  daughter,  and  £5000  to  Misses 
Ferguson,  in  whole  or  part.  This  will  enable  us  to  dispense  in  a 

>  See  1  King  Henry  IV.,  Actn.  Sc.  1  3  Henry  Dundas,  the  first  Viscount  Melville, 

a  John  Hope,  Esq.,  was  at  this  time  Solici-  first  appeared  in  Parliament  as  Lord  Advocate 

tor-General  for  Scotland,  afterwards  Lord  Jus-  of  Scotland. — i.  G.  L. 

tice-Clerk  from  1841  until  bis  death  in  1858, 


1825.]  JOURNAL  33 

great  measure  with  bank  assistance,  and  sleep  in  spite  of  thunder. 
I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  this  business  which  makes  me  a  little 
bilious,  or  rather  the  want  of  exercise  during  the  season  of  late,  and 
change  of  the  weather  to  too  much  heat.  Thank  God,  my  circum- 
stances are  good, — upon  a  fair  balance  which  I  have  made,  certainly 
not  less  than  £40,000  or  nearly  £50,000  above  the  world.  But  the 
sun  and  moon  shall  dance  on  the  green  ere  carelessness,  or  hope  of 
gain,  or  facility  of  getting  cash,  shall  make  me  go  too  deep  again, 
were  it  but  for  the  disquiet  of  the  thing.  Dined :  Lady  Scott  and 
Anne  quietly. 

December  15. — R.  P.  G[illies]  came  sicut  mos  est  at  five  o'clock  to 
make  me  confidant  of  the  extremities  of  his  distress.  It  is  clear  all 
he  has  to  do  is  to  make  the  best  agreement  he  can  with  his  creditors. 
I  remember  many  years  since  the  poor  fellow  told  me  he  thought 
there  was  something  interesting  in  having  difficulties.  Poor  lad,  he 
will  have  enough  of  them  now.  He  talks  about  writing  translations 
for  the  booksellers  from  the  German  to  the  amount  of  five  or  six 
hundred  pounds,  but  this  is  like  a  man  proposing  to  run  a  whole  day 
at  top  speed.  Yet,  if  he  had  good  subjects,  R.  P.  G.  is  one  of  the 
best  translators  I  know,  and  something  must  be  done  for  him  cer- 
tainly, though,  I  fear,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the 
ulcer ;  palliatives  won't  do.  He  is  terribly  imprudent,  yet  a  worthy 
and  benevolent  creature — a  great  bore  withal.  Dined  alone  with 
family.  I  am  determined  not  to  stand  mine  host  to  all  Scotland  and 
England  as  I  have  done.  This  shall  be  a  saving,  since  it  must  be  a 
borrowing,  year.  We  heard  from  Sophia;  they  are  got  safe  to 
town  ;  but  as  Johnnie  had  a  little  bag  of  meal  with  him,  to  make  his 
porridge  on  the  road,  the  whole  inn-yard  assembled  to  see  the  opera- 
tion. Junor,  his  maid,  was  of  opinion  that  England  was  an  "  awfu' 
country  to  make  parritch  in."  God  bless  the  poor  baby,  and  restore 
his  perfect  health ! 

December  1 6. — R.  P.  G.  and  his  friend  Robert  Wilson1  came — the 
former  at  five,  as  usual — the  latter  at  three,  as  appointed.  R[obert] 
W[ilson]  frankly  said  that  R.  P.  G.'s  case  was  quite  desperate,  that  he 
was  insolvent,  and  that  any  attempt  to  save  him  at  present  would  be 
just  so  much  cash  thrown  away.  God  knows,  at  this  moment  I  have 
none  to  throw  away  uselessly.  For  poor  Gillies  there  was  a  melan- 
choly mixture  of  pathos  and  affectation  in  his  statement,  which  really 
affected  me  ;  while  it  told  me  that  it  would  be  useless  to  help  him  to 
money  on  such  very  empty  plans.  I  endeavoured  to  persuade  him 
to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity,  resign  all  to  his  creditors,  and  begin 
the  world  on  a  new  leaf.  I  offered  him  Chiefswood  for  a  temporary 
retirement.  Lady  Scott  thinks  I  was  wrong,  and  nobody  could  less 
desire  such  a  neighbour,  all  his  affectations  being  caviare  to  me.  But 
then  the  wife  and  children  !  Went  again  to  the  Solicitor  on  a  wrong 

'  Robert  Sym  Wilson,  Esq.,  W.S.,  Secretary  to  the  Royal  Bank  of  Scotland j.  o.  i* 

3 


34  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

night,  being  asked  for  to-morrow.  Lady  Scott  undertakes  to  keep 
my  engagements  recorded  in  future.  Sed  quis  custodiet  ipsam  cus- 
todem  ? 

December  17. — Dined  with  the  Solicitor — Lord  Chief -Baron1 — Sir 
William  Boothby,  nephew  of  old  Sir  Brooke,  the  dandy  poet,  etc.  An- 
noyed with  anxious  presentiments,  which  the  night's  post  must  dispel 
or  confirm — all  in  London  as  bad  as  possible. 

December  18. — Ballantyne  called  on  me  this  morning.  Venit  ilia 
supremo,  dies.  My  extremity  has  come.  Cadell  has  received  letters 
from  London  which  all  but  positively  announce  the  failure  of  Hurst 
and  Robinson,  so  that  Constable  &  Co.  must  follow,  and  I  must  go 
with  poor  James  Ballantyne  for  company.  I  suppose  it  will  involve 
my  all.  But  if  they  leave  me  £500,  I  can  still  make  it  £1000  or 
£1200  a  year.  And  if  they  take  my  salaries  of  £1300  and  £300, 
they  cannot  but  give  me  something  out  of  them.  I  have  been  rash 
in  anticipating  funds  to  buy  land,  but  then  I  made  from  £5000  to 
£10,000  a  year,  and  land  was  my  temptation.  I  think  nobody  can 
lose  a  penny — that  is  one  comfort.  Men  will  think  pride  has  had  a 
fall.  Let  them  indulge  their  own  pride  in  thinking  that  my  fall  makes 
them  higher,  or  seems  so  at  least.  I  have  the  satisfaction  to  recollect 
that  my  prosperity  has  been  of  advantage  to  many,  and  that  some  at 
least  will  forgive  my  transient  wealth  on  account  of  the  innocence  of 
my  intentions,  and  my  real  wish  to  do  good  to  the  poor.  This  news 
will  make  sad  hearts  at  Darnick,  and  in  the  cottages  of  Abbotsford, 
which  I  do  not  nourish  the  least  hope  of  preserving.  It  has  been  my 
Delilah,  and  so  I  have  often  termed  it ;  and  now  the  recollection  of 
the  extensive  woods  I  planted,  and  the  walks  I  have  formed,  from 
which  strangers  must  derive  both  the  pleasure  and  profit,  will  ex- 
cite feelings  likely  to  sober  my  gayest  moments.  I  have  half  resolved 
never  to  see  the  place  again.  How  could  I  tread  my  hall  with  such 
a  diminished  crest  ?  How  live  a  poor  indebted  man  where  I  was  once 
the  wealthy,  the  honoured  ?  My  children  are  provided ;  thank  God 
for  that.  I  was  to  have  gone  there  on  Saturday  in  joy  and  prosperity 
to  receive  my  friends.  My  dogs  will  wait  for  me  in  vain.  It  is  fool- 
ish— but  the  thoughts  of  parting  from  these  dumb  creatures  have 
moved  me  more  than  any  of  the  painful  reflections  I  have  put  down. 
Poor  things,  I  must  get  them  kind  masters ;  there  may  be  yet  those 
who  loving  me  may  love  my  dog  because  it  has  been  mine.  I  must 
end  this,  or  I  shall  lose  the  tone  of  mind  with  which  men  should 
meet  distress. 

I  find  my  dogs'  feet  on  my  knees.     I  hear  them  whining  and 
seeking  me  everywhere — this  is  nonsense,  but  it  is  what  they  would 

1  The  Right  Hon.  Sir  Samuel  Shepherd,  who  In  England,  where  he  died,  aged  80,  on  the  30th 

had  been  at  the  head  of  the  Court  of  Exchequer  November,  1840.     Before  coming  to  Scotland, 

since  1819,  was  then  living  at  16  Coates  Cres-  Sir  Samuel  had  been  Solicitor-General  in  1814, 

cent;  he  retired  in  1830,  and  resided  afterwards  and  Attorney-General  in  1817. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  35 

do  could  they  know  how  things  are.  Poor  Will  Laidlaw !  poor  Tom 
Purdie !  this  will  be  news  to  wring  your  heart,  and  many  a  poor  fel- 
low's besides  to  whom  my  prosperity  was  daily  bread. 

Ballantyne  behaves  like  hirn^lf,  and  sinks  his  own  ruin  in  con- 
templating mine.  I  tried  to  enrich  him  indeed,  and  now  all — all  is 
gone.  He  will  have  the  "  Journal "  still,  that  is  a  comfort,  for  sure 
they  cannot  find  a  better  Editor.  They — alas  !  who  will  they  be — the 
unbekannten  Obern  who  are  to  dispose  of  my  all  as  they  will?  Some 
hard-eyed  banker ;  some  of  those  men  of  millions  whom  I  described. 
Cadell  showed  more  kind  and  personal  feeling  to  me  than  I  thought 
he  had  possessed.  He  says  there  are  some  properties  of  works  that 
will  revert  to  me,  the  copy-money  not  being  paid,  but  it  cannot  be  any 
very  great  matter,  I  should  think. 

Another  person  did  not  afford  me  all  the  sympathy  I  expected, 
perhaps  because  I  seemed  to  need  little  support,  yet  that  is  not  her 
nature,  which  is  generous  and  kind.  She  thinks  I  have  been  impru- 
dent, trusting  men  so  far.  Perhaps  so — but  what  could  I  do  ?  I 
must  sell  my  books  to  some  one,  and  these  folks  gave  me  the  largest 
price ;  if  they  had  kept  their  ground  I  could  have  brought  myself 
round  fast  enough  by  the  plan  of  14th  December.  I  now  view  mat- 
ters at  the  very  worst,  and  suppose  that  my  all  must  go  to  supply  the 
deficiencies  of  Constable.  I  fear  it  must  be  so.  His  connections 
with  Hurst  and  Robinson  have  been  so  intimate  that  they  must  be 
largely  involved.  This  is  the  worst  of  the  concern  ;  our  own  is  com- 
paratively plain  sailing. 

Poor  Gillies  called  yesterday  to  tell  me  he  was  in  extremity.  God 
knows  I  had  every  cause  to  have  returned  him  the  same  answer.  I 
must  think  his  situation  worse  than  mine,  as  through  his  incoherent, 
miserable  tale,  I  could  see  that  he  had  exhausted  each  access  to  cred- 
it, and  yet  fondly  imagines  that,  bereft  of  all  his  accustomed  indul- 
gences, he  can  work  with  a  literary  zeal  unknown  to  his  happier  days. 
I  hope  he  may  labour  enough  to  gain  the.  mere  support  of  his 
family.  For  myself,  the  magic  wand  of  the  Unknown  is  shivered 
in  his  grasp.  He  must  henceforth  be  termed  the  Too-well-known. 
The  feast  of  fancy  is  over  with  the  feeling  of  independence.  I 
can  no  longer  have  the  delight  of  waking  in  the  morning  with 
bright  ideas  in  my  mind,  haste  to  commit  them  to  paper,  and 
count  them  monthly,  as  the  means  of  planting  such  groves,  and 
purchasing  such  wastes;  replacing  my  dreams  of  fiction  by  other 
prospective  visions  of  walks  by 

"  Fountain  heads,  and  pathless  groves 
Places  which  pale  passion  loves." ' 

This  cannot  be ;  but  I  may  work  substantial  husbandry,  work  his- 

1  See  Nice  Valour ,  by  John  Fletcher;  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Works. 


36  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

tory,  and  such  concerns.     They  will  not  be  received   .  Footnote  to  page  44 

jX*     ,  ,        .  •;    .  T  ,       .        m  the  original  MS.  :— 

with  the  same  enthusiasm  ;  at  least  1  much  doubt  "Turn  back  to  page 
the  general  knowledge  that  an  author  must  write  Se^LideSS^ 
for  his  bread,  at  least  for  improvmg  his  pittance,  and  the  partner  of 
degrades  him  and  his  productions  in  the  public  oughT^T  uTwaste 
eye.  He  falls  into  the  second-rate  rank  of  estima-  two  leaves  of  paper." 
tion: 

"  While  the  harness  sore  galls,  and  the  spurs  his  sides  goad, 
The  high-mettled  racer's  a  hack  on  the  road."  l 

It  is  a  bitter  thought ;  but  if  tears  start  at  it,  let  them  flow.  I  am  so 
much  of  this  mind,  that  if  any  one  would  now  offer  to  relieve  all  my 
embarrassments  on  condition  I  would  continue  the  exertions  which 
brought  it  there,  dear  as  the  place  is  to  me,  I  hardly  think  I  could 
undertake  the  labour  on  which  I  entered  with  my  usual  alacrity  only 
this  morning,  though  not  without  a  boding  feeling  of  my  exertions 
proving  useless.  Yet  to  save  Abbotsford  I  would  attempt  all  that 
was  possible.  My  heart  clings  to  the  place  I  have  created.  There  is 
scarce  a  tree  on  it  that  does  not  owe  its  being  to  me,  and  the  pain  of 
leaving  it  is  greater  than  I  can  tell.  I  have  about  £10,000  of  Con- 
stable's, for  which  I  am  bound  to  give  literary  value,  but  if  I  am 
obliged  to  pay  other  debts  for  him,  I  will  take  leave  to  retain  this 
sum  at  his  credit.  We  shall  have  made  some  kittle  questions  of  lit- 
erary property  amongst  us.  Once  more,  "  Patience,  cousin,  and  shuf- 
fle the  cards." 

I  have  endeavoured  at  times  to  give  vent  to  thoughts  naturally  so 
painful,  by  writing  these  notices,  partly  to  keep  them  at  bay  by 
busying  myself  with  the  history  of  the  French  Convention.  I  thank 
God  I  can  do  both  with  reasonable  composure.  I  wonder  how  Anne 
will  bear  this  affliction  ?  She  is  passionate,  but  stout-hearted  and 
courageous  in  important  matters,  though  irritable  in  trifles.  I  am 
glad  Lockhart  and  his.  wife  are  gone.  Why?  I  cannot  tell;  but 
I  am  pleased  to  be  left  to  my  own  regrets  without  being  melted  by 
condolences,  though  of  the  most  sincere  and  affectionate  kind. 

Anne  bears  her  misfortune  gallantly  and  well,  with  a  natural  feel- 
ing, no  doubt,  of  the  rank  and  consideration  she  is  about  to  lose. 
Lady  Scott  is  incredulous,  and  persists  in  cherishing  hope  where 
there  is  no  ground  for  hope.  I  wish  it  may  not  bring  on  the  gloom 
of  spirits  which  has  given  me  such  distress.  If  she  were  the  active 
person  she  once  was  that  would  not  be.  Now  I  fear  it  more  than 
what  Constable  or  Cadell  will  tell  me  this  evening,  so  that  my  mind 
is  made  up. 

Oddly  gnough,  it  happened.  Mine  honest  friend  Hector  came  in 
before  dinner  to  ask  a  copy  of  my  seal  of  Arms,  with  a  sly  kindliness 
of  intimation  that  it  was  for  some  agreeable  purpose. 

i  From  Charles  Dibdin's  song,  The  Racehorse. 


1825.J  JOURNAL  37 

Half-past  Eight. — I  closed  this  book  under  the  consciousness  of 
impending  ruin,  I  open  it  an  hour  after,  thanks  be  to  God,  with  the 
strong  hope  that  matters  may  be  got  over  safely  and  honourably,  in 
a  mercantile  sense.  Cadell  came  at  eight  to  communicate  a  letter 
from  Hurst  and  Robinson,  intimating  they  had  stood  the  storm,  and 
though  clamorous  for  assistance  from  Scotland,  saying  they  had  pre- 
pared their  strongholds  without  need  of  the  banks.  This  is  all  so 
far  well,  but  I  will  not  borrow  any  money  on  my  estate  till  I  see 
things  reasonably  safe.  Stocks  have  risen  from 

This  was  a  mistake.  *  .  „  ,  , 

to  ,  a  strong  proof  that  confidence  is  restored. 

But  I  will  yield  to  no  delusive  hopes,  and  fall  back  fall  edge,  my  res- 
olutions hold. 

I  shall  always  think  the  better  of  Cadell  for  this,  not  merely  be- 
cause his  feet  are  beautiful  on  the  mountains  who  brings  good 
tidings,  but  because  he  showed  feeling — deep  feeling,  poor  fellow — 
he  who  I  thought  had  no  more  than  his  numeration  table,  and  who, 
if  he  had  had  his  whole  counting-house  full  of  sensibility,  had  yet 
his  wife  and  children  to  bestow  it  upon — I  will  not  forget  this  if  I 
get  through.  I  love  the  virtues  of  rough  and  round  men  ;  the  others 
are  apt  to  escape  in  salt-rheum,  sal-volatile,  and  a  white  pocket-hand- 
kerchief. An  odd  thought  strikes  me :  when  I  die  will  the  Journal 
of  these  days  be  taken  out  of  the  ebony  cabinet  at  Abbotsford,  and 
read  as  the  transient  pout  of  a  man  worth  £60,000,  with  wonder  that 
the  well-seeming  Baronet  should  ever  have  experienced  such  a  hitch  ? 
Or  will  it  be  found  in  some  obscure  lodging-house,  where  the  decayed 
son  of  chivalry  has  hung  up  his  scutcheon  for  some  20s.  a  week,  and 
where  one  or  two  old  friends  will  look  grave  and  whisper  to  each 
other,  "  Poor  gentleman,"  "  A  well-meaning  man,"  "  Nobody's  ene- 
my but  his  own,"  "  Thought  his  parts  could  never  wear  out,"  "  Fam- 
ily poorly  left,"  "  Pity  he  took  that  foolish  title  "  ?  Who  can  answer 
this  question  ? 

What  a  life  mine  has  been ! — half  educated,  almost  wholly  neg- 
lected or  left  to  myself,  stuffing  my  head  with  most  nonsensical  trash, 
and  undervalued  in  society  for  a  time  by  most  of  my  companions, 
getting  forward  and  held  a  bold  and  clever  fellow,  contrary  to  the 
opinion  of  all  who  thought  me  a  mere  dreamer,  broken-hearted  for 
two  years,  my  heart  handsomely  pieced  again,  but  the  crack  will  re- 
main to  my  dying  day.  Rich  and  poor  four  or  five  times,  once  on 
the  verge  of  ruin,  yet  opened  new  sources  of  wealth  almost  overflow- 
ing. Now  taken  in  my  pitch  of  pride,  and  nearly  winged  (unless  the 
good  news  hold),  because  London  chooses  to  be  in  an  uproar,  and 
in  the  tumult  of  bulls  and  bears,  a  poor  inoffensive  lion  like  myself  is 
pushed  to  the  wall.  And  what  is  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  God  knows. 
And  so  ends  the  catechism. 

December  19. — Ballantyne  here  before  breakfast.  He  looks  on 
Cadell's  last  night's  news  with  more  confidence  than  I  do ;  but  I 


38  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

must  go  to  work  be  my  thoughts  sober  or  lively.  Constable  came 
in  and  sat  an  hour.  The  old  gentleman  is  firm  as  a  rock,  and  scorns 
the  idea  of  Hurst  and  Robinson's  stopping.  He  talks  of  going  up 
to  London  next  week  and  making  sales  of  our  interest  in  W[oodstock] 
and  £oney,  which  would  put  a  hedge  round  his  finances.  He  is  a 
very  clever  fellow,  and  will,  I  think,  bear  us  through. 

Dined  at  Lord  Chief -Baron's.1  Lord  Justice-Clerk ;  Lord  Presi- 
dent ; a  Captain  Scarlett,3  a  gentlemanlike  young  man,  the  son  of  the 
great  Counsel,4  and  a  friend  of  my  son  Walter ;  Lady  Charlotte 
Hope,  and  other  woman-kind  ;  R.  Dundas  of  Arniston,  and  his  pleas- 
ant and  good-humoured  little  wife,  whose  quick  intelligent  look  pleases 
me  more,  though  her  face  be  plain,  than  a  hundred  mechanical  beau- 
ties. 

December  20. — I  like  Ch.  Ba.  Shepherd  very  much — as  much,  I 
think,  as  any  man  I  have  learned  to  know  of  late  years.  There  is  a 
neatness  and  precision,  a  closeness  and  truth,  in  the  tone  of  his  con- 
versation, which  shows  what  a  lawyer  he  must  have  been.  Perfect 
good-humour  and  suavity  of  manner,  with  a  little  warmth  of  temper 
on  suitable  occasions.  His  great  deafness  alone  prevented  him  from 
being  Lord  Chief -Justice.  I  never  saw  a  man  so  patient  under  such 
a  malady.  He  loves  society,  and  converses  excellently ;  yet  is  often 
obliged,  in  a  mixed  company  particularly,  to  lay  aside  his  trumpet, 
retire  into  himself,  and  withdraw  from  the  talk.  He  does  this  with 
an  expression  of  patience  on  his  countenance  which  touches  one 
much.  He  has  occasion  for  patience  otherwise,  I  should  think,  for 
Lady  S.  is  fine  and  fidgety,  and  too  anxious  to  have  everything  pointe 
devise. 

Constable's  licence  for  the  Dedication  is  come,  which  will  make 
him  happy.* 

Dined  with  James  Ballantyne,  and  met  my  old  friend  Mathews, 
the  comedian,  with  his  son,  now  grown  up  a  clever,  rather  forward 
lad,  who  makes  songs  in  the  style  of  James  Smith  or  Colman,  and 
sings  them  with  spirit ;  rather  lengthy  though. 

December  21. — There  have  been  odd  associations  attending  my 
two  last  meetings  with  Mathews.  The  last  time  I  saw  him,  before 
yesterday  evening,  he  dined  with  me  in  company  with  poor  Sir  Al- 
exander Boswell,  who  was  killed  within  two  or  three  months.6  I 

'  Sir  Samuel  Shepherd.  within  the  attainment  of  every  class  of  read- 
a  The  Right.  Hon.  Charles  Hope,  who  held  ers,  is  most  humbly  inscribed  by  His  Majesty's 
the  office  of  Lord  President  of  the  Court  of  dutiful  and  devoted  subject— Archibald  Con- 
Session  for  thirty  years;  he  died  in  1851  aged  stable." — J.  G.  L. 

eighty-nine.  •  Probably  a  slip  of  the  pen  for  "weeks,"  as 
*  Afterwards  Sir  James  Yorke  Scarlett,  G.C.B.  Mathews  was  in  London  in  March  (1822),  and 
4  Sir  James  Scarlett,  first  Lord  Abinger.  we  know  that  he  dined  with  Scott  in  Castle 
6  The  dedication  of  Constable's  Miscellany  Street  on  the  10th  of  February.    Memoirs,  vol. 
was  penned  bxSir  Walter — "To  His  Majesty  iii.  p.  262.    Mr.  Lockhartsays/'withinaweek," 
King  George  TV.,  the  most  generous  Patron  and  at  p.  33  vol.  vii.  gives  an  account  of  a  din- 
even  of  the  most  humble  attempts  towards  the  ner  party.    Writing  so  many  years  after  the 
advantage  of  his  subjects,  this  MiscMany,  de-  event  he  may  have  mistaken  the  date.    James 
signed  to  extend  useful  knowledge  and  elegant  Boswell  died  in  London  24th  February  1822; 
literature,  by  placing  works  of  standard  merit  his  brother,  Sir  Alexander,  was  at  the  funeral, 


1825.]  JOURNAL  39 

never  saw  Sir  Alexander  more.1  The  time  before  was  in  1815,  when 
John  Scott  of  Gala  and  I  were  returning  from  France,  and  passed 
through  London,  when  we  brought  Mathews  down  as  far  as  Leaming- 
ton. Poor  Byron  lunched,  or  rather  made  an  early  dinner,  with  us 
at  Long's,  and  a  most  brilliant  day  we  had  of  it.  I  never  saw  Byron 
so  full  of  fun,  frolic,  wit,  and  whim:  he  was  as  playful  as  a  kitten. 
Well,  I  never  saw  him  again.2  So  this  man  of  mirth,  with  his  merry 
meetings,  has  brought  me  no  luck.  I  like  better  that  he  should  throw 
in  his  talent  of  mimicry  and  humour  into  the  present  current  tone  of 
the  company,  than  that  he  should  be  required  to  give  this,  that,  and 
t'other  bit  selected  from  his  public  recitations.  They  are  good  cer- 
tainly— excellent ;  but  then  you  must  laugh,  and  that  is  always  severe 
to  me.  When  I  do  laugh  in  sincerity,  the  joke  must  be  or  seem  un- 
premeditated. I  could  not  help  thinking,  in  the  midst  of  the  glee, 
what  gloom  had  lately  been  over  the  minds  of  three  of  the  company, 
Cadell,  J.  B.,  and  the  Journalist.  What. a  strange  scene  if  the  surge 
of  conversation  could  suddenly  ebb  like  the  tide,  and  [show]  us  the 
state  of  people's  real  minds !  Savary a  might  have  been  gay  in  such 
a  party  with  all  his  forgeries  in  his  heart. 

"No  eyes  the  rocks  discover 
Which  lurk  beneath  the  deep."4 

Life  could  not  be  endured  were  it  seen  in  reality. 

Things  are  mending  in  town,  and  H[urst]  and  K[obinson]  write 
with  confidence,  and  are,  it  would  seem,  strongly  supported  by  wealthy 
friends.  Cadell  and  Constable  are  confident  of  their  making  their 
way  through  the  storm,  and  the  impression  of  their  stability  is  gen- 
eral in  London.  I  hear  the  same  from  Lockhart.  Indeed,  I  now  be- 
lieve that  they  wrote  gloomy  letters  to  Constable,  chiefly  to  get  as 
much  money  out  of  them  as  they  possibly  could.  But  they  had  well- 
nigh  overdone  it.  This  being  Teind  Wednesday  must  be  a  day  of 
leisure  and  labour.  Sophia  has  got  a  house,  25  Pall  Mall.  Dined 
at  home  with  Lady  Scott  and  Anne. 

and  did  not  return  to  Edinburgh  till  Saturday  of  their  father's  eccentricity,  but  joined  to 
23d  March.  James  Stuart  of  Dunearn  chal-  greater  talent.  Sir  Walter  took  great  pleasure 
lenged  him  on  Monday;  they  fought  on  Tues-  in  their  society,  but  James  being  resident  in 
day,  and  Boswell  died  on  the  following  day,  London,  the  opportunity  of  enjoying  his  corn- 
March  27.  Mr.  Lockhart  says  that  "several  pany  had  of  late  been  rare.  Upon  the  present 
circumstances  of  Sir  Alexander's  death  are  ex-  occasion  he  had  dined  with  me  in  the  greatest 
actly  reproduced  in  the  duel  scene  in  St.  Ro-  health  and  spirits  the  evening  before  his  de- 
wan'*  Well. "  parture  for  London,  and  in  a  week  we  had  ac- 

i  In  a  letter  to  Skene  written  late  in  1821.  counts  of  his  having  been  seized  by  a  sudden 
Scott,  in  expressing  his  regret  at  not  being  able  illness  which  carried  him  off.    In  a  few  weeks 
to  meet  Boswell,  adds,  "I  hope  J.  Boz  comes  more  his  brother,  Sir  Alexander,  was  killed  in 
to  make  some  stay,  but  I  shall  scarce  forgive  a  duel  occasioned  by  a  foolish  political  lam- 
him  for  not  coming  at  the  fine  season."    The  poon  which  he  had  written,  and  in  a  thought- 
brothers  Boswell  had  been  Mr.  Skene's  school-  less  manner  suffered  to  find  its  way  to  a  news- 
fellows  and  intimate  friends;  and  he  had  lived  paper." — Reminiscences. 
much  with  them  both  in  England  and  Scot-  2  See  Life,  vol.  v.  p.  87. 
land.  3  Henry  Savary,  son  of  a  banker  in  Bristol, 

Mr.  Skene  says,  in  a  note  to  Letter  28,  that  had  been  tried  for  forgery  a  few  months  be- 

"they  were  men  of  remarkable  talents,  and  fore. 

James  of  great  learning,  both  evincing  a  dash  *  From  What  d'ye  call  it?  by  John  Gay. 


40  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

December  22. — I  wrote  six  of  my  close  pages  yesterday,  which  is 
about  twenty-four  pages  in  print.  What  is  more,  I  think  it  comes 
off  twangingly.  The  story  is  so  very  interesting  in  itself,  that  there 
is  no  fear  of  the  book  answering.1  Superficial  it  must  be,  but  I  do 
not  disown  the  charge.  Better  a  superficial  book,  which  brings  well 
and  strikingly  together  the  known  and  acknowledged  facts,  than  a 
dull  boring  narrative,  pausing  to  see  further  into  a  mill-stone  at  every 
moment  than  the  nature  of  the  mill-stone  admits.  Nothing  is  so  tire- 
some as  walking  through  some  beautiful  scene  with  a  minute  philoso- 
pher, a  botanist,  or  pebble-gatherer,  who  is  eternally  calling  your  atten- 
tion from  the  grand  features  of  the  natural  scenery  to  look  at  grasses 
and  chucky-stones.  Yet,  in  their  way,  they  give  useful  information ; 
and  so  does  the  minute  historian.  Gad,  I  think  that  will  look  well  in  the 
preface.  My  bile  is  quite  gone.  I  really  believe  it  arose  from  mere 
anxiety.  What  a  wonderful  connection  between  the  mind  and  body  ! 

The  air  of  "Bonnie  Dundee"  running  in  my  head  to-day,  I 
[wrote]  a  few  verses  to  it  before  dinner,  taking  the  key-note  from 
the  story  of  Clavers  leaving  the  Scottish  Convention  of  Estates  in 
1688-9.2  1  wonder  if  they  are  good.  Ah!  poor  Will  Erskine!3 
thou  couldst  and  wouldst  have  told  me.  T  must  consult  J.  B.,  who 
is  as  honest  as  was  W.  E.  But  then,  though  he  has  good  taste  too, 
there  is  a  little  of  Big  Bow-wow  about  it.  Can't  say  what  made  me 
take  a  frisk  so  uncommon  of  late  years,  as  to  write  verses  of  free- 
will. I  suppose  the  same  impulse  which  makes  birds  sing  when  the 
storm  seems  blown  over. 

Dined  at  Lord  Minto's.  There  were  Lord  and  Lady  Ruthven, 
Will  Clerk,  and  Thomas  Thomson, — a  right  choice  party.  There  was 
also  my  very  old  friend  Mrs.  Brydone,  the  relict  of  the  traveller,4  and 
daughter  of  Principal  Robertson,  and  really  worthy  of  such  a  con- 
nection— Lady  Minto,  who  is  also  peculiarly  agreeable — and  her  sis- 
ter, Mrs.  Admiral  Adam,  in  the  evening. 

December  23. — The  present  Lord  Minto  is  a  very  agreeable,  well- 
informed,  and  sensible  man,  but  he  possesses  neither  the  high  breed- 
ing, ease  of  manner,  nor  eloquence  of  his  father,  the  first  Earl.  That 
Sir  Gilbert  was  indeed  a  man  among  a  thousand.  I  knew  him  very 
intimately  in  the  beginning  of  the  century,  and,  which  was  very  agree- 
able, was  much  at  his  house  on  very  easy  terms.  He  loved  the  Muses, 
and  worshipped  them  in  secret,  and  used  to  read  some  of  his  poetry, 
which  was  but  middling. 

1  Life  of  Napoleon. — j.  G.  L.  dential  of  all  his  Edinburgh  associates."  Inl796 

2  See  Scott's  Poetical  Works,  vol.  xii.  pp.  he  arranged  with  the  publishers  for  Scott's  ear- 
194-97.— j.  G.  L.  liest  literary  venture,  a  thin  4to  of  some  48 

3  William  Erskine  of  Kinnedder  was  Scott's  pages  entitled  The  Chase,  etc.   See  Life  through- 
senior  by  two  years  at  the  bar,  having  passed  out,  more  particularly  vol.  i.  pp.  279-80,  333-4, 
Advocate  in  1790t     He  became  Sheriff  of  Ork-  338-9;  ii.  pp.  103-4;  iv.  pp.  12,  166,  369;  v.  p. 
ney  in  1809,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  Bench  as  174;  vi.  p.  393;  vii.  pp.  1,  5,  6,  70-74.     See  Ap- 
Lord  Kinnedder,  29  January,  1822;  he  died  on  pendix  for  Mr.  Skene's  account  of  the  destruc- 
the  14th  of  August  following.     Scott  and  he  tion  of  the  letters  from  Scott  to  Erskine. 

met  first  in  1792,  and,  as  is  well  known,  he  af-          *  Patrick  Brydone,  author  of  A  Tour  Through 
terwards  "became  the  nearest  and  most  confl-      Sicily  and  Malta.     2  vols.  8vo,  1773. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  41 

Tom  Campbell  lived  at  Minto,  but  it  was  in  a  state  of  dependence 
which  he  brooked  very  ill.  He  was  kindly  treated,  but  would  not 
see  it  in  the  right  view,  and  suspected  slights,  and  so  on,  where  no 
such  thing  was  meant.  There  was  a  turn  of  Savage  about  Tom, 
though  without  his  blackguardism — a  kind  of  waywardness  of  mind 
and  irritability  that  must  have  made  a  man  of  his  genius  truly  un- 
happy. Lord  Minto,  with  the  mildest  manners,  was  very  tenacious 
of  his  opinions,  although  he  changed  them  twice  in  the  crisis  of  poli- 
tics. He  was  the  early  friend  of  Fox,  and  made  a  figure  towards  the 
end  of  the  American  war,  or  during  the  struggles  betwixt  Fox  and 
Pitt.  Then  came  the  Revolution,  and  he  joined  the  Anti-Gallican 
party  so  keenly,  that  he  declared  against  Addington's  peace  with 
France,  and  was  for  a  time,  I  believe,  a  Wyndhamite.  He  was  rec- 
onciled to  the  Whigs  on  the  Fox  and  Grenville  coalition ;  but  I  have 
heard  that  Fox,  contrary  to  his  wont,  retained  such  personal  feelings 
as  made  him  object  to  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot's  having  a  seat  in  the  Cabi- 
net ;  so  he  was  sent  as  Governor-General  to  India — a  better  thing,  I 
take  it,  for  his  fortune.  He  died  shortly  after  his  return,1  at  Hatfield 
or  Barnet,  on  his  way  down  to  his  native  country.  He  was  a  most 
pleasing  and  amiable  man.  I  was  very  sorry  for  his  death,  though  I 
do  not  know  how  we  should  have  met,  for  the  contested  election  in 
1805  [in  Roxburghshire]  had  placed  some  coldness  betwixt  the  pres- 
ent Lord  and  me..  I  was  certainly  anxious  for  Sir  Alexander  Don, 
both  as  friend  of  my  most  kind  friend  Charles,  Duke  of  Buccleuch, 
and  on  political  accounts  ;  and  those  thwartings  are  what  men  in  pub- 
lic life  do  not  like  to  endure.  After  a  cessation  of  friendship  for 
some  years,  we  have  come  about  again.  We  never  had  the  slightest 
personal  dispute  or  disagreement.  But  politics  are  the  blowpipe  be- 
neath whose  influence  the  best  cemented  friendships  too  often  dis- 
sever ;  and  ours,  ofter  all,  was  only  a  very  familiar  acquaintance. 

It  is  very  odd  that  the  common  people  at  Minto  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood will  not  believe  to  this  hour  that  the  first  Earl  is  dead. 
They  think  he  had  done  something  in  India  which  he  could  not  an- 
swer for — that  the  house  was  rebuilt  on  a  scale  unusually  large  to 
give  him  a  suite  of  secret  apartments,  and  that  he  often  walks  about 
the  woods  and  crags  of  Minto  at  night,  with  a  white  nightcap,  and 
long  white  beard.  The  circumstance  of  his  having  died  on  the  road 
down  to  Scotland  is  the  sole  foundation  of  this  absurd  legend,  which 
shows  how  willing  the  vulgar  are  to  gull  themselves  when  they  can 
find  no  one  else  to  take  the  trouble.  -I  have  seen  people  who  could 
read,  write,  and  cipher,  shrug  their  shoulders  and  look  mysterious 
when  this  subject  was  mentioned.  One  very  absurd  addition  was 
made  on  occasion  of  a  great  ball  at  Minto  House,  which  it  was  said 
was  given  to  draw  all  people  away  from  the  grounds,  that  the  con- 
cealed Earl  might  have  leisure  for  his  exercise.  This  was  on  the 

'  Gilbert,  Earl  of  Minto,  died  in  June,  1814.— J.  o.  L. 


42  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

principle  in  the  German  play,1  where,  to  hide  their  conspiracy,  the 
associates  join  in  a  chorus  song. 

We  dined  at  home ;  Mr.  Davidoff  and  his  tutor  kept  an  engage- 
ment with  us  to  dinner  notwithstanding  the  death  of  the  Emperor 
Alexander.  They  went  to  the  play  with  the  womankind ;  I  stayed 
at  home  to  write. 

December  24. — Wrote  Walter  and  Jane,  and  gave  the  former  an 
account  of  how  things  had  been  in  the  money  market,  and  the  loan 
of  £10,000.  Constable  has  a  scheme  of  publishing  the  works  of  the 
Author  of  W[averley]  in  a  superior  style,  at  £l,  Is.  volume.  He  says 
he  will  answer  for  making  £20,000  of  this,  and  liberally  offered  me 
any  share  of  the  profit.  I  have  no  great  claim  to  any,  as  I  have  only 
to  contribute  the  notes,  which  are  light  work ;  yet  a  few  thousands 
coming  in  will  be  a  good  thing — besides  the  P[rinting]  Office.  Con- 
stable, though  valetudinary,  and  cross  with  his  partner,  is  certainly  as 
good  a  pilot  in  these  rough  seas  as  ever  man  put  faith  in.  His  rally 
has  put  me  in  mind  of  the  old  song : — 

"  The  tailor  raise  and  shook  his  duds, 
He  gar'd  the  BILLS  flee  aff  in  cluds, 
And  they  that  stayed  gat  fearfu'  thuds — 
The  tailor  proved  a  man,  O."2 

We  are  for  Abbotsford  to-day,  with  a  light  heart. 

Abbotsford,  December  25. — Arrived  here  last  night  at  seven.  Our 
halls  are  silent  compared  to  last  year,  but  let  us  be  thankful — when 
we  think  how  near  the  chance  appeared  but  a  week  since  that  these 
halls  would  have  been  ours  no  longer.  Barbarus  has  segetes  ?  Nul- 
lum  numem  abest,  si  sit  prudentia.  There  shall  be  no  lack  of  wisdom. 
But  come — ilfaut  cultiver  notre  jardin*  Let  us  see :  I  will  write  out 
the  "  Bonnets  of  Bonnie  Dundee " ;  I  will  sketch  a  preface  to  La 
Rochejacquelin  for  Constable's  Miscellany,  and  try  about  a  specimen 
of  notes  for  the  W[averley  Novels].  Together  with  letters  and  by- 
business,  it  will  be  a  good  day's  work. 

"I  make  a  vow, 
And  keep  it  true." 

I  will  accept  no  invitation  for  dinner,  save  one  to  Newton-Don,  and 
Mertoun  to-morrow,  instead  of  Christmas  Day.  On  this  day  of  gen- 
eral devotion  I  have  a  particular  call  for  gratitude  ! ! 

My  God !  what  poor  creatures  we  are !  After  all  my  fair  pro- 
posals yesterday,  I  was  seized  with  a  most  violent  pain  in  the  right 
kidney  and  parts  adjacent,  which,  joined  to  deadly  sickness  which 
it  brought  on,  forced  me  instantly  to  go  to  bed  and  send  for  Clark- 

»  See  Canning's  German  Play,  in  the  Anli-         *  See  Johnson's  Musical  Muteum,  No.  490, 
Jacobin.— 1.  Q.  L.  slightly  altered. 

8  See  Candide.—t.  G.  L. 


1825.]  JOURNAL  43 

son.1  He  came  and  inquired,  pronouncing  the  complaint  to  be  grav- 
el augmented  by  bile.  I  was  in  great  agony  till  about  two  o'clock, 
but  awoke  with  the  pain  gone.  I  got  up,  had  a  fire  in  my  dressing- 
closet,  and  had  Dalgleish  to  shave  me — two  trifles,  which  I  only  men- 
tion, because  they  are  contrary  to  my  hardy  and  independent  personal 
habits.  But  although  a  man  cannot  be  a  hero  to  his  valet,  his  valet 
in  sickness  becomes  of  great  use  to  him.  I  cannot  expect  that  this 
first  will  be  the  last  visit  of  this  cruel  complaint ;  but  shall  we  re- 
ceive good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  not  receive  evil  ? 

December  27. — Slept  twelve  hours  at  a  stretch,  being  much  ex- 
hausted. Totally  without  pain  to-day,  but  uncomfortable  from  the 
effects  of  calomel,  which,  with  me  at  least,  is  like  the  assistance  of  an 
auxiliary  army,  just  one  degree  more  tolerable  than  the  enemy  it 
chases  away.  Calomel  contemplations  are  not  worth  recording.  I 
wrote  an  introduction  and  a  few  notes  to  the  Memoirs  of  Madame  La 
Rochejacquelin?  being  all  that  I  was  equal  to. 

Sir  Adam  Ferguson  came  over  and  tried  to  marry  my  verses  to 
the  tune  of  "  Bonnie  Dundee."  They  seem  well  adapted  to  each 
other.  Dined  with  Lady  Scott  and  Anne. 

Worked  at  Pepys  in  the  evening,  with  the  purpose  of  review  for 
Lockhart.8  Notwithstanding  the  depressing  effects  of  the  calomel,  I 
feel  the  pleasure  of  being  alone  and  uninterrupted.  Few  men,  lead- 
ing a  quiet  life,  and  without  any  strong  or  highly  varied  change  of 
circumstances,  have  seen  more  variety  of  society  than  I — few  have 
enjoyed  it  more,  or  been  bored,  as  it  is  called,  less  by  the  company  of 
tiresome  people.  I  have  rarely,  if  ever,  found  any  one,  out  of  whom 
I  could  not  extract  amusement  or  edification ;  and  were  I  obliged  to 
account  for  hints  afforded  on  such  occasions,  I  should  make  an  ample 
deduction  from  my  inventive  powers.  Still,  however,  from  the  earli- 
est time  I  can  remember,  I  preferred  the  pleasure  of  being  alone  to 
waiting  for  visitors,  and  have  often  taken  a  bannock  and  a  bit  of 
cheese  to  the  wood  or  hill,  to  avoid  dining  with  company.  As  I  grew 
from  boyhood  to  manhood  I  saw  this  would  not  do  :  and  that  to  gain 
a  place  in  men's  esteem  I  must  mix  and  bustle  with  them.  Pride 
and  an  excitation  of  spirits  supplied  the  real  pleasure  which  others 
seem  to  feel  in  society,  and  certainly  upon  many  occasions  it  was 
real.  Still,  if  the  question  was,  eternal  company,  without  the  power 
of  retiring  within  yourself,  or  solitary  confinement  for  life,  I  should 
say,  "  Turnkey,  lock  the  cell !"  My  life,  though  not  without  its  fits 
of  waking  and  strong  exertion,  has  been  a  sort  of  dream,  spent  in 

"Chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy."4 
I  have  worn  a  wishing-cap,  the  power  of  which  has  been  to  divert 

1  James  Clarkson,  Esq. ,  surgeon,  if  elrose,  son  '  See  the  Quarterly  Review  for  January,  1826 
to  Scott's  old  friend,  Dr.  Clarkson  of  Selkirk.  —or  Scott's  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works.— J.  G.  L. 
— j  o.  L. 

2  See  Constable's  Miscellany,  vol.  v.— j.  G.  L.  *  As  You  Like  It,  Act  iv.  Sc.  3  — J  G.  L. 


44  JOURNAL  PEC. 

present  griefs  by  a  touch  of  the  wand  of  imagination,  and  gild  over 
the  future  prospect  by  prospects  more  fair  than  can  ever  be  realised. 
Somewhere  it  is  said  that  this  castle-building — this  wielding  of  the 
aerial  trowel — is  fatal  to  exertions  in  actual  life.  I  cannot  tell ;  I 
have  not  found  it  so.  I  cannot,  indeed,  say  like  Madame  Genlis,  that 
in  the  imaginary  scenes  in  which  I  have  acted  a  part  I  ever  prepared 
myself  for  anything  which  actually  befell  me ;  but  I  have  certainly 
fashioned  out  much  that  made  the  present  hour  pass  pleasantly 
away,  and  much  that  has  enabled  me  to  contribute  to  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  public.  Since  I  was  five  years  old  I  cannot  remember 
the  time  when  I  had  not  some  ideal  part  to  play  for  my  own  solitary 
amusement. 

December  28. — Somehow  I  think  the  attack  on  Christmas  Day 
has  been  of  a  critical  kind,  and,  having  gone  off  so  well,  may  be  pro- 
ductive rather  of  health  than  continued  indisposition.  If  one  is  to 
get  a  renewal  of  health  in  his  fifty-fourth  year,  he  must  look  to  pay 
fine  for  it.  Last  night  George  Thomson1  came  to  see  how  I  was, 
poor  fellow.  He  has  talent,  is  well  informed,  and  has  an  excellent 
heart ;  but  there  is  an  eccentricity  about  him  that  defies  description. 
I  wish  to  God  I  saw  him  provided  in  a  country  kirk.  That,  with  a 
rational  wife — that  is,  if  there  is  such  a  thing  to  be  gotten  for  him, — 
would,  I  think,  bring  him  to  a  steady  temper.  At  present  he  is  be- 
tween the  tyning  and  the  winning.  If  I  could  get  him  to  set  to  any 
hard  study,  he  would  do  something  clever. 

How  to  make  a  critic. — A  sly  rogue,  sheltering  himself  under  the 
generic  name  of  Mr.  Campbell,  requested  of  me,  through  the  penny- 
post,  the  loan  of  £50  for  two  years,  having  an  impulse,  as  he  said,  to 
make  this  demand.  As  I  felt  no  corresponding  impulse,  I  begged  to 
decline  a  demand  which  might  have  been  as  reasonably  made  by  any 
Campbell  on  earth ;  and  another  impulse  has  determined  the  man  of 
fifty  pounds  to  send  me  anonymous  abuse  of  my  works  and  temper 
and  selfish  disposition.  The  severity  of  the  joke  lies  in  14d.for  post- 
age, to  avoid  which  his  next  epistle  shall  go  back  to  the  clerks  of  the 
Post  Office,  as  not  for  S.  W.  S,  How  the  severe  rogue  would  be  dis- 
appointed, if  he  knew  I  never  looked  at  more  than  the  first  and  last 
lines  of  his  satirical  effusion  1 

When  I  first  saw  that  a  literary  profession  was  to  be  my  fate,  I 
endeavoured  by  all  efforts  of  stoicism  to  divest  myself  of  that  irrita- 
ble degree  of  sensibility  —  or,  to  speak  plainly,  of  vanity  —  which 
makes  the  poetical  race  miserable  and  ridiculous.  The  anxiety  of  a 
poet  for  praise  and  for  compliments  I  have  always  endeavoured  [to 
keep  down], 

December  29. — Base  feelings  this  same  calomel  gives  one — mean, 
poor,  and  abject — a  wretch,  as  Will  Rose  says : — 

>  Formerly  tutor  at  Abbotsford.  Mr.  Look-  Thomson— the  happy  'Dominie  Thomson'  of 
hart  says:  ''  I  observe,  as  the  sheet  is  passing  the  happy  days  of  Abbotsford:  he  died  at  Ed- 
through  the  press,  the  death  of  the  Rev  George  inburgh  on  the  8th  of  January,  1838. " 


1825.]  JOURNAL  45 

"  Fie,  fie,  on  silly  coward  man, 
That  he  should  be  the  slave  o't." ' 

Then  it  makes  one  "  wofully  dogged  and  snappish,"  as  Dr.  Rutty,  the 
Quaker,  says  in  his  Gurnal* 

Sent  Lockhart  four  pages  on  Sheridan's  plays ;  not  very  good,  I 
think,  but  the  demand  came  sudden.  Must  go  to  W — k  !*  yet  am 
vexed  by  that  humour  of  contradiction  which  makes  me  incline  to  do 
anything  else  in  preference.  Commenced  preface  for  new  edition  of 
my  Novels.  The  city  of  Cork  send  my  freedom  in  a  silver  box.  I 
thought  I  was  out  of  their  grace  for  going  to  see  Blarney  rather  than 
the  Cove,  for  which  I  was  attacked  and  defended  in  the  papers  when 
in  Ireland.  I  am  sure  they  are  so  civil  that  I  would  have  gone  wher- 
ever they  wished  me  to  go  if  I  had  had  any  one  to  have  told  me  what 
I  ought  to  be  most  inquisitive  about. 

"For  if  I  should  as  lion  come  in  strife 
Into  such  a  place,  't  were  pity  of  my  life."  * 

December  30. — Spent  at  home  and  in  labour — with  the  weight  of 
unpleasant  news  from  Edinburgh.  J.  B.  is  like  to  be  pinched  next 
week  unless  the  loan  can  be  brought  forward.  I  must  and  have  en- 
deavoured to  supply  him.  At  present  the  result  of  my  attempts  is 
uncertain.  I  am  even  more  anxious  about  C[onstable]  &  Co.,  unless 
they  can  get  assistance  from  their  London  friends  to  whom  they  gave 
much.  All  is  in  God's  hands.  The  worst  can  only  be  what  I  have 
before  anticipated.  But  I  must,  I  think,  renounce  the  cigars.  They 
brought  back  (using  two  this  evening)  the  irritation  of  which  I  had 
no  feelings  while  abstaining  from  them.  Dined  alone  with  Gordon,5 
Lady  S.,  and  Anne.  James  Curie,  Melrose,  has  handsomely  lent  me 
£600  ;  he  has  done  kindly.  I  have  served  him  before  and  will  again 
if  in  my  power. 

December  31. — Took  a  good  sharp  walk  the  first  time  since  my 
illness,  and  found  myself  the  better  in  health  and  spirits.  Being 
Hogmanay,  there  dined  with  us  Colonel  Russell  and  his  sisters,  Sir 
Adam  Ferguson  and  Lady,  Colonel  Ferguson,  with  Mary  and  Mar- 
garet ;  an  auld-warld  party,  who  made  themselves  happy  in  the  auld 
fashion.  I  felt  so  tired  about  eleven  that  I  was  forced  to  steal  to  bed. 

1  Burns's  "0  poortith   cauld  and   restless  er  doctor's  minute  confessions.     Sec  the  Life 
love."  of  Johnson's  sub  anno  1777. — J.  o.  L. 

2  John  Rutty,  M.  D. ,  a  physician  of  some  emi-  3  Woodttock-c<mtr&cteA  for  in  1823. 
nence  in  Dublin,  died  in  177;>,  and  his  executors 

published  his  very  curious  and  absurd  "Spirit-  4  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  Act  HI.  Sc.  1. 
ual  Diary  and  Soliloquies."  Boswell  describes  5  George  Huntly  Gordon,  amanuensis  to 
Johnson  as  being  much  amused  with  the  Quak-  Scott. 


1826.—  JANUARY 

» 

January  1. — A  year  has  passed — another  has  commenced.  These 
solemn  divisions  of  time  influence  our  feelings  as  they  recur.  Yet 
there  is  nothing  in  it;  for  every  day  in  the  year  closes  a  twelve- 
month as  well  as  the  31st  December.  The  latter  is  only  the  solemn 
pause,  as  when  a  guide,  showing  a  wild  and  mountainous  road,  calls 
on  a  party  to  pause  and  look  back  at  the  scenes  which  they  have 
just  passed.  To  me  this  new  year  opens  sadly.  There  are  these 
troublesome  pecuniary  difficulties,  which  however,  I  think,  this  week 
should  end.  There  is  the  absence  of  all  my  children,  Anne  excepted, 
from  our  little  family  festival.  There  is,  besides,  that  ugly  report  of 
the  15th  Hussars  going  to  India.  Walter,  I  suppose,  will  have  some 
step  in  view,  and  will  go,  and  I  fear  Jane  will  not  dissuade  him. 

A  hard,  frosty  day  —  cold,  but  dry  and  pleasant  under  foot. 
Walked  into  the  plantations  with  Anne  and  Anne  Russell.  A 
thought  strikes  me,  alluding  to  this  period  of  the  year.  People  say 
that  the  whole  human  frame  in  all  its  parts  and  divisions  is  gradually 
in  the  act  of  decaying  and  renewing.  What  a  curious  timepiece  it 
would  be  that  could  indicate  to  us  the  moment  this  gradual  and  in- 
sensible change  had  so  completely  taken  place  that  no  atom  was  left 
of  the  original  person  who  had  existed  at  a  certain  period,  but  there 
existed  in  his  stead  another  person  having  the  same  limbs,  thews, 
and  sinews,  the  same  face  and  lineaments,  the  same  consciousness — 
a  new  ship  built  on  an  old  plank — a  pair  of  transmigrated  stockings, 
like  those  of  Sir  John  Cutler,1  all  green  silk,  without  one  thread  of 
the  original  black  silk  left !  Singular — to  be  at  once  another  and 
the  same. 

January  2. — Weather  clearing  up  in  Edinburgh  once  more,  and 
all  will,  I  believe,  do  well.  I  am  pressed  to  get  on  with  Woodstock, 
and  must  try.  I  wish  I  could  open  a  good  vein  of  interest  which 
would  breathe  freely.  I  must  take  my  old  way,  and  write  myself 
into  good-humour  with  my  task.  It  is  only  when  I  dally  with  what  I 
am  about,  look  back,  and  aside,  instead  of  keeping  my  eyes  straight 
forward,  that  I  feel  these  cold  sinkings  of  the  heart.  All  men  I  sup- 
pose do,  less  or  more.  They  are  like  the  sensation  of  a  sailor  when 
the  ship  is  cleared  for  action,  and  all  are  at  their  places — gloomy 

1  The  parsimonious  yet  liberal  London  mer-  Brown's  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Hu- 
chant,  whose  miserly  habits  gave  Arbuthnot  man  Mind,  vol.  i.  p.  244,  and  Martin  Scriblerus, 
the  materials  of  the  story.  See  Professor  cap.  xii.,  Pope,  vol.  iv.  p.  54,  Edin.  1776. 


JAN.  1826.]  JOURNAL  47 

enough ;  but  the  first  broadside  puts  all  to  rights.  Dined  at  Huntly 
Burn  with  the  Fergusons  en  masse. 

January  3. — Promises  a  fair  day,  and  I  think  the  progress  of  my 
labours  will  afford  me  a  little  exercise,  which  I  greatly  need  to  help  off 
the  calomel  feeling.  Walked  with  Colonel  Russell  from  eleven  till 
two — the  first  good  day's  exercise  I  have  had  since  coming  here.  We 
went  through  all  the  Terrace,  the  Roman  Planting,1  over  by  the  Stiel 
and  Haxellcleuch,  and  so  by  the  Rhymer's  Glen  to  Chiefswood,2 
which  gave  my  heart  a  twinge,  so  disconsolate  it  seemed.  Yet  all  is 
for  the  best.  Called  at  Huntly  Burn,  and  shook  hands  with  Sir  Adam 
and  his  Lady  just  going  off.  When  I  returned,  signed  the  bond  for 
£10,000,  which  will  disencumber  me  of  all  pressing  claims  ;3  when  I 

get  forward  W k  and  Nap.  there  will  be  £12,000  and  upwards, 

and  I  hope  to  add  £3000  against  this  time  next  year,  or  the  devil 
must  hold  the  dice.  J.  B.  writes  me  seriously  on  the  carelessness  of 
my  style.  I  do  not  think  I  am  more  careless  than  usual ;  but  I  dare 
say  he  is  right.  I  will  be  more  cautious. 

January  4. — Despatched  the  deed  yesterday  executed.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Skene,  my  excellent  friends,  came  to  us  from  Edinburgh.  Skene, 
distinguished  for  his  attainments  as  a  draughtsman,  and  for  his 
highly  gentlemanlike  feelings  and  character,  is  Laird  of  Rubislaw, 
near  Aberdeen.  Having  had  an  elder  brother,  his  education  was 
somewhat  neglected  in  early  life,  against  which  disadvantage  he  made 
a  most  gallant  [fight],  exerting  himself  much  to  obtain  those  accom- 
plishments which  he  has  since  possessed.  Admirable  in  all  exercises, 
there  entered  a  good  deal  of  the  cavalier  into  his  early  character.  Of 
late  he  has  given  himself  much  to  the  study  of  antiquities.  His  wife, 
a  most  excellent  person,  was  tenderly  fond  of  Sophia.  They  bring 
so  much  old-fashioned  kindness  and  good-humour  with  them,  besides 
the  recollections  of  other  times,  that  they  must  be  always  welcome 
guests.  Letter  from  Mr.  Scrope,4  announcing  a  visit. 

January  5. — Got  the  desired  accommodation  with  Coutts,  which 
will  put  J.  B.  quite  straight,  but  am  a  little  anxious  still  about  Con- 
stable. He  has  immense  stock,  to  be  sure,  and  most  valuable,  but  he 
may  have  sacrifices  to  make  to  convert  a  large  portion  of  it  into 
ready  money.  The  accounts  from  London  are  most  disastrous. 
Many  wealthy  persons  totally  ruined,  and  many,  many  more  have 
been  obliged  to  purchase  their  safety  at  a  price  they  will  feel  all 
their  lives.  I  do  not  hear  things  are  so  bad  in  Edinburgh ;  and  J. 
B.'s  business  has  been  transacted  by  the  banks  with  liberality. 

1  This  plantation  now  covers  the  remains  ot  of  the  struggling  firms. — j.  G.  L.     See  Dec.  14, 

an  old  Roman  road  from  the  Great  Camp  on  1825. 

the  Eildon  Hills  to  the  ford  below  Scott's  house.  *  William  Scrope,  author  of  Days  of  Deer 

— J.  G.  L.  Stalking,  roy.  8vo,  1839 ;  and  Days  and  yights 

a  The  residence  for  several  years  of  Mr.  and  of  Salmon  Fishing,  roy.  8vo,  1843;  died  in  his 

Mrs.  Lockhart.  81st  year  in  1852.     Mr.  Lockhart  says  of  this 

3  When  settling  his  estate  on  his  eldest  son,  enthusiastic  sportsman  that  at  this  time  "he 

Sir  Walter  had  retained  the  power  of  burdening  had  a  lease  of  Lord  Somerville's  pavilion  oppo- 

it  with  £10,000  for  behoof  of  his  younger  chil-  site  Melrose,  and  lived  on  terms  of  affectionate 

dren;  he  now  raised  the  sum  for  the  assistance  intimacy  with  Sir  Walter  Scott. " 


48  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

Colonel  Russell  told  us  last  night  that  the  last  of  the  Moguls,  a 
descendant  of  Kubla-Khan,  though  having  no  more  power  than  his 
effigies  at  the  back  of  a  set  of  playing-cards,  refused  to  meet  Lord 
Hastings,  because  the  Governor-General  would  not  agree  to  remain 
standing  in  his  presence.  Pretty  well  for  the  blood  of  Timur  in  these 
degenerate  days ! 

Much  alarmed.  I  had  walked  till  twelve  with  Skene  and  Col.  Rus- 
sell, and  then  sat  down  to  my  work.  To  my  horror  and  surprise  1 
could  neither  write  nor  spell,  but  put  down  one  word  for  another, 
and  wrote  nonsense.  I  was  much  overpowered  at  the  same  time, 
and  could  not  conceive  the  reason.  I  fell  asleep,  however,  in  my 
chair,  and  slept  for  two  hours.  On  waking  my  head  was  clearer,  and 
I  began  to  recollect  that  last  night  I  had  taken  the  anodyne  left  for 
the  purpose  by  Clarkson,  and  being  disturbed  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  I  had  not  slept  it  off. 

Obliged  to  give  up  writing  to-day — read  Pepys  instead.  The 
Scotts  of  Harden  were  to  have  dined,  but  sent  an  apology, — storm 
coming  on.  Russells  left  us  this  morning  to  go  to  Haining. 

January  6. — This  seems  to  be  a  feeding  storm,  coming  on  by  little 
and  little.  Wrought  all  day  and  dined  quiet.  My  disorder  is  Avearing 
off,  and  the  quiet  society  of  the  Skenes  suits  with  my  present  humour. 
I  really  thought  I  was  in  for  some  very  bad  illness.  Curious  expression 
of  an  Indian-born  boy  just  come  from  Bengal,  a  son  of  my  cousin 
George  Swinton.  The  child  saw  a  hare  run  across  the  fields,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  See,  there  is  a  little  tiger !" 

January  7,  Sunday. — Knight,  a  young  artist,  son  of  the  perform- 
er, came  to  paint  my  picture  at  the  request  of  Terry.  This  is  very  far 
from  agreeable,  as  I  submitted  to  this  distressing  state  of  constraint 
last  year  to  Newton,  at  request  of  Lockhart ;  to  Leslie,  at  request 
of  my  American  friend  ;J  to  Wilkie,  for  his  picture  of  the  King's  ar- 
rival at  Holyrood  House ;  and  some  one  besides.  I  am  as  tired  of 
the  operation  as  old  Maida,  who  had  been  so  often  sketched  that  he 
got  up  and  went  away  with  signs  of  loathing  whenever  he  saw  an  art- 
ist unfurl  his  paper  and  handle  his  brushes.  But  this  young  man  is 
civil  and  modest ;  and  I  have  agreed  he  shall  sit  in  the  room  while  I 
work,  and*take  the  best  likeness  he  can,  without  compelling  me  into 
fixed  attitudes  or  the  yawning  fatigues  of  an  actual  sitting.  I  think, 
if  he  has  talent,  he  may  do  more  my  way  than  in  the  customary 
mode  ;  at  least  I  can't  have  the  hang-dog  look  which  the  unfortunate 
Theseus  has  who  is  doomed  to  sit  for  what  seems  an  eternity.* 

i  Mr.  George  Ticknor  of  Boston.     He  saw  Leslie  himself  thought  Chantrey's  was  the 

much  of  Scott  and  his  family  in  the  spring  of  best  of  all  the  portraits.     "The  gentle  turn  of 

1819  in  Edinburgh  and  at  Abbotsford;  and  was  the  head,  inclined  a  little  forward  and  down, 

again  in  Scotland  in  1838.    Both  visits  are  well  and  the  lurking  humour  in  the  eye  and  about 

described  in  his  journals,  published  in  Boston  the  mouth,  are  Scott's  own." — Autobiographi- 

in  1876.  cal  Recollections  of  Leslie,  edited  by  Taylor, 

Mrs.  Lockhart  was  of  opinion  that  Leslie'a  vol.  i.  p.  118. 

portrait  of  her  father  was  the  best  extant,  a                   sedet,  eternumque  sedebit 

"and    nothing  equals    it   except    Chantrey's  lufelix  Theseus .  .  . 

bust."— Ticknor's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  107.  VIRGIL.— J.  Q.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  49 

I  wrought  till  two  o'clock — indeed  till  I  was  almost  nervous  with 
correcting  and  scribbling.  I  then  walked,  or  rather  was  dragged, 
through  the  snow  by  Tom  Purdie,  while  Skene  accompanied.  AVhat 
a  blessing  there  is  in  a  man  like  Tom,  whom  no  familiarity  can  spoil, 
whom  you  may  scold  and  praise  and  joke  with,  knowing  the  quality 
of  the  man  is  unalterable  in  his  love  and  reverence  to  his  master.  Use 
an  ordinary  servant  in  the  same  way  and  he  will  be  your  master  in  a 
month.  We  should  thank  God  for  the  snow  as  well  as  summer  flow- 
ers. This  brushing  exercise  has  put  all  my  nerves  into  tone  again, 
which  were  really  jarred  with  fatigue  until  my  very  backbone  seemed 
breaking.  This  comes  of  trying  to  do  too  much.  J.  B.'s  news  are  as 
good  as  possible. — Prudence,  prudence,  and  all  will  do  excellently. 

January  8. — Frost  and  snow  still.  Write  to  excuse  myself  from 
attending  the  funeral  of  my  aunt,  Mrs.  Curie,  which  takes  place  to- 
morrow at  Kelso.  She  was  a  woman  of  the  old  Sandy-Knowe  breed, 
with  the  strong  sense,  high  principle,  and  indifferent  temper  which  be- 
longed to  my  father's  family.  She  lived  with  great  credit  on  a  mod- 
erate income,  and,  I  believe,  gave  away  a  great  deal  of  it.1 

January  9. — Mathews  the  comedian  and  his  son  came  to  spend  a 
day  at  Abbotsford.  The  last  is  a  clever  young  man,  with  much  of 
his  father's  talent  for  mimicry.  Rather  forward  though.*  Mr.  Scrope 
also  came  out,  which  fills  our  house. 

January  10. — Bodily  health,  the  mainspring  of  the  microcosm, 
seems  quite  restored.  No  more  flinching  or  nervous  fits,  but  the 
sound  mind  in  the  sound  body.  What  poor  things  does  a  fever-fit  or 
an  overflowing  of  the  bile  make  of  the  masters  of  creation  ! 

The  snow  begins  to  fall  thick  this  morning — 

"The  landlord  then  aloud  did  say, 
As  how  he  wished  they  would  go  away." 

To  have  our  friends  shut  up  here  would  be  rather  too  much  of  a  good 
thing. 

The  day  cleared  up  and  was  very  pleasant.  Had  a  good  walk  and 
looked,  at  the  curling.  Mr.  Mathews  made  himself  very  amusing  in 
the  evening.  He  has  the  good-nature  to  show  his  accomplishments 
without  pressing,  and  without  the  appearance  of  feeling  parh.  On  the 
contrary,  I  dare  say  he  enjoys  the  pleasure  he  communicates. 

January  11. — I  got  proof-sheets,  in  which  it  seems  I  have  repeat- 
ed a  whole  passage  of  history  which  had  been  told  before.  James  is 
in  an  awful  stew,  and  I  cannot  blame  him ;  but  then  he  should  con- 


1  In  a  letter  of  this  date  to  his  sister-in-law,  a  See  letter  addressed  by  C.  J.  Mathews  to 
Mrs.  Thomas  Scott,  Sir  Walter  says:  —  "Poor  his  mother,  in  which  he  says,  "I  took  partic- 
aunt  Curlie  died  like  a  Roman,  or  rather  like  ular  notice  of  everything  in  the  room  (Sir  Wai- 
one  of  the  Sandy-Knowe  bairns,  the  most  sto-  ter's  sanctum),  and  if  he  had  left  me  there, 
ical  race  I  ever  knew.  She  turned  every  one  should  certainly  have  read  all  his  notes."  Me- 
out  of  the  room,  and  drew  her  last  breath  alone.  moirs,  edited  by  Dickens,  2  vols. ,  London,  1879, 
So  did  my  uncle,  Captain  Robert  Scott,  and  sev-  vol.  i.  p.  284. 
eral  others  of  that  family." — j.  G.  I* 

i 


50  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

sider  the  hyoscyamus  which  I  was  taking,  and  the  anxious  botheration 
about  the  money-market.  However,  as  Chaucer  says : — 

"There  is  na  workeman 
That  can  bothe  worken  wel  and  hastilie ; 
This  must  be  done  at  leisure  parfitly." * 

January  12. — Mathews  last  night  gave  us  a  very  perfect  imitation 
of  old  Cumberland,  who  carried  the  poetic  jealousy  and  irritability 
further  than  any  man  I  ever  saw.  He  was  a  great  flatterer  too,  the 
old  rogue.  Will  Erskine  used  to  admire  him.  I  think  he  wanted 
originality.  A  very  high-bred  man  in  point  of  manners  in  society. 

My  little  artist,  Knight,  gets  on  better  with  his  portrait — the  feat- 
ures are,  however,  too  pinched,  I  think. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  days  pass  pleasantly  enough — work  till  one 
or  two,  then  an  hour  or  two's  walk  in  the  snow,  then  lighter  work,  or 
reading.  Late  dinner,  and  singing  or  chat  in  the  evening.  Mathews 
has  really  all  the  will,  as  well  as  the  talent,  to  be  amusing.  He  con- 
firms my  idea  of  ventriloquism  (which  is  an  absurd  word),  as  being 
merely  the  art  of  imitating  sounds  at  a  greater  or  less  distance,  assist- 
ed by  some  little  points  of  trick  to  influence  the  imagination  of  the 
audience — the  vulgar  idea  of  a  peculiar  organisation  (beyond  fineness 
of  ear  and  of  utterance)  is  nonsense. 

January  13. — Our  party  are  about  to  disperse — 

"Like  youthful  steers  unyoked,  east,  north,  and  south."2 

I  am  not  sorry,  being  one  of  those  whom  too  much  mirth  always  in- 
clines to  sadness.  The  missing  so  many  of  my  own  family,  together 
with  the  serious  inconveniences  to  which  I  have  been  exposed,  gave 
me  at  present  a  desire  to  be  alone.  The  Skenes  return  to  Edinburgh, 
so  does  Mr.  Scrope — item,  the  little  artist ;  Mathews  to  Newcastle ;  his 
son  to  Liverpool.  So  exeunt  omnes* 

1  Merchant's  Tale,  lines  9706-8,  slightly  al-  Notwithstanding  that  the  snow  lay  pretty  deep 
tered.  on  the  ground,  Sir  Walter,  old  Mathews.  and 

2  2  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  iv.  Sc.2 J.  o.  L.  myself  set  out  with  the  deerhounds  and  terriers 

3  "I  had  Iqpg  been  in  the  habit  of  passing  to  have  a  large  range  through  the  woods  and 
the  Christmas  with  Sir  Walter  in  the  country,  high  grounds;  and  a  most  amusing  excursion 
when  he  had  great  pleasure  in  assembling  what  it  was,  from  the  difficulties  which  Mathews, 
he  called  'a  fireside  party,'  where  he  was  al-  unused  to  that  sort  of  scrambling,  had  to  en- 
ways  disposed  to  indulge  in  the  free  and  unre-  counter,  being  also  somewhat  lame  from  an  ac- 
strained  outpouring  of  his  cheerful  and  con-  cident  he  had  met  with  in  being  thrown  out  of 
vivial  disposition.    Upon  one  of  these  occasions  a  gig, — the  good-humoured  manner  with  which 
the  Comedian  Mathews  and  his  son  were  at  each  of  my  two  lame  companions  strove  to  get 
Abbotsford,  and  most  entertaining  they  were,  over  the  bad  passes,  their  jokes  upon  it,  alter- 
giving  us  a  full  display  of  all  their  varied  pow-  nately  shouting  for  my  assistance  to  help  them 
ers  in  scenic  representations,  narrations,  songs,  through,  and  with  all  the  liveliness  of  their 
ventriloquism,  and  frolic  of  every  description,  conversation,  as  every  anecdote  which  one  told 
as  well  as  a  string  of  most  amusing  anecdote,  was  in  emulation  tried  to  be  outdone  by  the 
connected  with  the  professional  adventures  of  other  by  some  incident  equally  if  not  more  en- 
the  elder,  and  the  travels  of  the  son,  who  seemed  tertaining, — and  it  may  be  well  supposed  that 
as  much  a  genius  as  his  father.    He  has  never  the  healthful  exercise  of  a  walk  of  this  descrip- 
appeared  on  the  stage,  although  abundantly  fit  tion  disposed  every  one  to  enjoy  the  festivity 
to  distinguish  himself  in  that  department,  but  which  was  to  close  the  day." — Mr.  Skene't 
has  taken  to  the  profession  of  architecture.  Reminiscen<xs. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  51 

Mathews  assures  me  that  Sheridan  was  generally  very  dull  in  so- 
ciety, and  sate  sullen  and  silent,  swallowing  glass  after  glass,  rather  a 
hindrance  than  a  help.  But  there  was  a  time  when  he  broke  out  with 
a  resumption  of  what  had  been  going  on,  done  with  great  force,  and 
generally  attacking  some  person  in  the  company,  pr  some  opinion 
which  he  had  expressed.  I  never  saw  Sheridan  but  in  large  parties. 
He  had  a  Bardolph  countenance,  with  heavy  features,  but  his  eye  pos- 
sessed the  most  distinguished  brilliancy.  Mathews  says  it  is  very 
simple  in  Tom  Moore  to  admire  how  Sheridan  came  by  the  means  of 
paying  the  price  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  when  all  the  world  knows  he 
never  paid  it  at  all ;  and  that  Lacy,  who  sold  it,  was  reduced  to  want 
by  his  breach  of  faith.1  Dined  quiet  with  Anne,  Lady  Scott,  and 
Gordon. 

January  14. — An  odd  mysterious  letter  from  Constable,  who  is 
gone  post  to  London,  to  put  something  to  rights  which  is  wrong  be- 
twixt them,  their  banker,  and  another  moneyed  friend.  It  strikes  me 
to  be  that  sort  of  letter  which  I  have  seen  men  write  when  they  are 
desirous  that  their  disagreeable  intelligence  should  be  rather  appre- 
hended than  avowed.  I  thought  he  had  been  in  London  a  fortnight 
ago,  disposing  of  property  to  meet  this  exigence,  and  so  I  think  he 
should.  Well,  I  must  have  patience.  But  these  terrors  and  frights 
are  truly  annoying.  Luckily  the  funny  people  are  gone,  and  I  shall 
not  have  the  task  of  grinning  when  I  am  serious  enough.  Dined  as 
yesterday. 

A  letter  from  J.  B.  mentioning  Constable's  journey,  but  without 
expressing  much,  if  any,  apprehension.  He  knows  C.  well,  and  saw 
him  before  his  departure,  and  makes  no  doubt  of  his  being  able  easily 
to  extricate  whatever  may  be  entangled.  I  will  not,  therefore,  make 
myself  uneasy.  I  can  help  doing  so  surely,  if  I  will.  At  least,  I 
have  given  up  cigars  since  the  year  began,  and  have  now  no  wish  to 
return  to  the  habit,  as  it  is  called.  I  see  no  reason  why  one  should 
not  be  able  to  vanquish,  with  God's  assistance,  these  noxious  thoughts 
which  foretell  evil  but  cannot  remedy  it. 

January  15. — Like  yesterday,  a  hard  frost.  Thermometer  at  10 ; 
water  in  my  dressing-room  frozen  to  flint ;  yet  I  had  a  fine  walk  yes- 
terday, the  sun  dancing  delightfully  on  "grim  Nature's  visage  hoar."2 
Were  it  not  the  plague  of  being  dragged  along  by  another  person,  I 
should  like  such  weather  as  well  as  summer ;  but  having  Tom  Purdie 
to  do  this  office  reconciles  me  to  it.  /  cannot  cleik  with  John,  as  old 
Mrs.  Mure  [of  Caldwell]  used  to  say.  I  mean,  that  an  ordinary  me- 
nial servant  thus  hooked  to  your  side  reminds  me  of  the  twin  bodies 
mentioned  by  Pitscottie,  being  two  trunks  on  the  same  waist  and  legs. 
One  died  before  the  other,  and  remained  a  dead  burden  on  the  back 
of  its  companion.3  Such  is  close  union  with  a  person  whom  you  can- 

1  See  Moore's  Life  of  Sheridan,  vol.  i.  p.  191.          3  Lindsay's  Chronicles  of  Scotland,  2  vote. 
This  work  was  published  late  in  1825.— J.  G.  L.        Edin.  1814,  pp.  246-7. 
a  Burns's  Vision. — jr.  G.  L. 


52  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

not  well  converse  with,  and  whose  presence  is  yet  indispensable  to 
your  getting  on.  An  actual  companion,  whether  humble  or  your  equal, 
is  still  worse.  But  Tom  Purdie  is  just  the  thing,  kneaded  up  between 
the  friend  and  servant,  as  well  as  Uncle  Toby's  bowling-green  between 
sand  and  clay.  .You  are  certain  he  is  proud  as  well  as  patient  under 
his  burthen,  and  you  are  under  no  more  constraint  than  with  a  pony. 
I  must  ride  him  to-day  if  the  weather  holds  up.  Meantime  I  will  cor- 
rect that  curious  fellow  Pepys'  Diary, — I  mean  the  article  I  have  made 
of  it  for  the  Quarterly. 

Edinburgh,  January  16. — Came  through  cold  roads  to  as  cold 
news.  Hurst  and  Robinson  have  suffered  a  bill  of  £1000  to  come 
back  upon  Constable,  which  I  suppose  infers  the  ruin  of  both  houses. 
We  shall  soon  see.  Constable,  it  seems,  who  was  to  have  set  off  in 
the  last  week  of  December,  dawdled  here  till  in  all  human  probability 
his  going  or  staying  became  a  matter  of  mighty  little  consequence. 
He  could  not  be  there  till  Monday  night,  and  his  resources  must  have 
come  too  late.  Dined  with  the  Skenes.1 

January  17. — James  Ballantyne  this  morning — good  honest  fel- 
low, with  a  visage  as  black  as  the  crook.4  He  hopes  no  salvation ; 
has  indeed  taken  measures  to  stop.  It  is  hard,  after  having  fought 
such  a  battle.  Have  apologised  for  not  attending  the  Royal  Society 
Club,  who  have  a  gaudeamus  on  this  day,  and  seemed  to  count  much 
on  my  being  the  preses. 

My  old  acquaintance,  Miss  Elizabeth  Clerk,  sister  of  Willie,  died 
suddenly.  I  cannot  choose  but  wish  it  had  been  S.  W.  S.,  and  yet 
the  feeling  is  unmanly.  I  have  Anne,  my  wife,  and  Charles  to  look 
after.  I  felt  rather  sneaking  as  I  came  home  from  the  Parliament 
House — felt  as  if  I  were  liable  monstrari  digito  in  no  very  pleasant 
way.  But  this  must  be  borne  cum  caeteris;  and,  thank  God,  however 
uncomfortable,  I  do  not  feel  despondent. 

I  have  seen  Cadell,  Ballantyne,  and  Hogarth.  All  advise  me  to 
execute  a  trust  of  my  property  for  payment  of  my  obligations.  So 
does  John  Gibson,8  and  so  I  resolve  to  do.  My  wife  and  daughter 

1  Mr.  Skene   in  his  Reminiscences  says  :—  ruined  de  fond  en  comble.     It's  a  hard  hlow, 

"The  family  had  been  at  Abbotsford,  and  it  but  I  must  just  bear  up;  the  only  thing  which 

had  long  been  their  practice  the  day  they  came  wrings  me  is  poor  Charlotte  and  the  bairns.'" 

to  town  to  take  a  family  dinner  at  my  house,  a  Crook.    The  chain  and  hook  hanging  from 

which  had  accordingly  been  complied  with  the  crook-tree  over  the  fire  in  Scottish  cot- 

upon  the  present  occasion,  and  I  never  had  tages. 

seen  Sir  Walter  in  better  spirits  or  more  agree-  3  [Sir  Walter's  private  law  agent.]  Mr.  John 
able.  The  fatal  intimation  of  his  bankruptcy,  Gibson,  Junr.,  W.S.,  Mr.  James  Jollie,  W.S., 
however,  awaited  him  at  home,  and  next  morn-  and  Mr.  Alexander  Monypenny,  W.S.,  were 
ing  early  I  was  surprised  by  a  verbal  message  the  three  gentlemen  who  ultimately  agreed  to 
to  come  to  him  as  soon  as  I  had  got  up.  Fear-  take  charge,  as  trustees,  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
ful  that  he  had  got  a  fresh  attack  of  the  com-  affairs;  and  certainly  no  gentlemen  ever  ac- 
plaint  from  which  he  had  now  for  some  years  quitted  themselves  of  such  an  office  in  a  man- 
been  free,  or  that  he  had  been  involved  in  some  ner  more  honourable  to  themselves,  or  more 
quarrel,  I  went  to  see  him  by  seven  o'clock,  satisfactory  to  a  client  and  his  creditors. — j.  o. 
and  found  him  already  by  randle  light  seated  at  L.  Mr.  Gibson  wrote  a  little  volume  of  Remi- 
his  writing-table,  surrounded  by  papers  which  niscences  of  Scott,  which  was  published  in  1871. 
he  was  examining,  holding  out  his  hand  to  me  This  old  friend  died  in  1879.  "In  the  month 
as  I  entered,  he  said,  'Skene,  this  is  the  hand  of  January,  1826,"  says  Mr.  Gibson,  "Sir  \Val- 
pf  a  beggar.  Constable  has  failed,  and  I  am  ter  called  upon  me,  and  explained  how  mat- 


1826.]  JOURNAL  53 

are  gloomy,  but  yet  patient.  I  trust  by  my  hold  on  the  works  to 
make  it  every  man's  interest  to  be  very  gentle  with  me.  Cadell  makes 
it  plain  that  by  prudence  they  will,  in  six  months,  realise  £20,000, 
which  can  be  attainable  by  no  effort  of  their  own. 

January  18. — He  that  sleeps  too  long  in  the  morning,  let  him 
borrow  the  pillow  of  a  debtor.  So  says  the  Spaniard,  and  so  say  I. 
I  had  of  course  an  indifferent  night  of  it.  I  wish  these  two  days 
were  over ;  but  the  worst  is  over.  The  Bank  of  Scotland  has  be- 
haved very  well ;  expressing  a  resolution  to  serve  Constable's  house 
and  me  to  the  uttermost ;  but  as  no  one  can  say  to  what  extent 
Hurst  and  Robinson's  failure  may  go,  borrowing  would  but  linger 
it  out. 

January  19. — During  yesterday  I  received  formal  visits  from  my 
friends,  Skene  and  Colin  Mackenzie  (who,  I  am  glad  to  see,  looks 
well),  with  every  offer  of  service.  The  Royal  Bank  also  sent  Sir  John 
Hope  and  Sir  Henry  Jardine1  to  offer  to  comply  with  my  wishes. 
The  Advocate  came  on  the  same  errand.  But  I  gave  all  the  same  an- 
swer— that  my  intention  was  to  put  the  whole  into  the  hands  of  a 
trustee,  and  to  be  contented  with  the  event,  and  that  all  I  had  to  ask 
was  time  to  do  so,  and  to  extricate  my  affairs.  I  was  assured  of  every 
accommodation  in  this  way.  From  all  quarters  I  have  had  the  same 
kindness.  Letters  from  Constable  and  Robinson  have  arrived.  The 
last  persist  in  saying  they  will  pay  all  and  everybody.  They  say, 
moreover,  in  a  postscript,  that  had  Constable  been  in  town  ten  days 
sooner,  all  would  have  been  well.  When  I  saw  him  on  24th  Decem- 
ber, he  proposed  starting  in  three  days,  but  dallied,  God  knows  why, 
in  a  kind  of  infatuation,  I  think,  till  things  had  got  irretrievably 
wrong.  There  would  have  been  no  want  of  support  then,  and  his 
stock  under  his  own  management  would  have  made  a  return  immense- 
ly greater  than  it  can  under  any  other.  Now  I  fear  the  loss  must  be 
great,  as  his  fall  will  involve  many  of  the  country  dealers  who  traded 
with  him. 

I  feel  quite  composed  and  determined  to  labour.  There  is  no 
remedy.  I  guess  (as  Mathews  makes  his  Yankees  say)  that  we  shall 
not  be  troubled  with  visitors,  and  I  calculate  that  I  will  not  go  out  at 
all;  so  what  can  I  do  better  than  labour?  Even  yesterday  I  went 
about  making  notes  on  Waverley,  according  to  Constable's  plan.  It 
will  do  good  one  day.  To-day,  when  I  lock  this  volume,  I  go  to 
W[oodstock].  Heigho ! 


ters  stood  with  the  two  houses  referred  to,  The  latter  course  was  preferred  for  various  rea- 
adding  that  he  himself  was  a  partner  in  one  of  sons,  but  chiefly  out  of  regard  for  his  own  feel- 
them — that  bills  were  falling  due  and  dishon-  ing."    Reminiscences,  p.  12.    See  entry  in  Jour- 
oured — and  that  some  immediate  arrangement  nal  under  Jan.  24. 
was  indispensably  necessary.     In  such  circum- 
stances, only  two  modes  of  proceeding  could  be  "Sir  John  Hope  of  Pinkie  and  Craighall,  llth 
thought  of— either  that  he  should  avail  him-  Baronet;  Sir  Henry  Jardine,   King's  Remem- 
self  of  the  Bankrupt  Act,  and  allow  his  estate  brancer  from  1820  to  1837 ;  and  Sir  William  Rae, 
to  be  sequestrated,  or  that  he  should  execute  a  Lord  Advocate,  son  of  Lord  Eskgrove,  were  all 
trust  conveyance  for  behoof  of  his  creditors.  Directors  of  the  Royal  Bank  of  Scotland. 


54  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

Knight  came  to  stare  at  me  to  complete  his  portrait.  He  must 
have  read  a  tragic  page,  compared  to  what  he  saw  at  Abbotsford.1 

We  dined  of  course  at  home,  and  before  and  after  dinner  I  fin- 
ished about  twenty  printed  pages  of  Woodstock,  but  to  what  effect 
others  must  judge.  A  painful  scene  after  dinner,  and  another  after 
supper,  endeavouring  to  convince  these  poor  dear  creatures  that  they 
must  not  look  for  miracles,  but  consider  the  misfortune  as  certain, 
and  only  to  be  lessened  by  patience  and  labour. 

January  20. — Indifferent  night — very  bilious,  which  may  be  want 
of  exercise.  A  letter  from  Sir  J.  Sinclair,  whose  absurd  vanity  bids 
him  thrust  his  finger  into  every  man's  pie,  proposing  that  Hurst  and 
Robinson  should  sell  their  prints,  of  which  he  says  they  have  a  large 
collection,  by  way  of  lottery  like  Boy  dell. 

"  In  scenes  like  these  which  break  our  heart 
Comes  Punch,  like  you  and " 

Mais  pourtant,  cultivons  notre  jardin.  The  public  favour  is  my  only 
lottery.  I  have  long  enjoyed  the  foremost  prize,  and  something  in 
my  breast  tells  me  my  evil  genius  will  not  overwhelm  me  if  I  stand 
by  myself.  Why  should  I  not  ?  I  have  no  enemies — many  attached 
friends.  The  popular  ascendency  which  I  have  maintained  is  of  the 
kind  which  is  rather  improved  by  frequent  appearances  before  the 
public.  In  fact,  critics  may  say  what  they  will,  but "  hain  your  repu- 
tation, and  tyne  your  reputation,"  is  a  true  proverb.3 

Sir  William  Forbes  called — the  same  kind,  honest  friend  as  ever, 
with  all  offers  of  assistance,8  etc.  etc.  All  anxious  to  serve  me,  and 
careless  about  their  own  risk  of  loss.  And  these  are  the  cold,  hard, 
money-making  men  whose  questions  and  control  I  apprehended. 

Lord  Chief  Commissioner  Adam  also  came  to  see  me,  and  the 
meeting,  though  pleasing,  was  melancholy.  It  is  the  first  time  we 
have  met  since  the  break  up  of  his  hopes  in  the  death  of  his  eldest 
son  on  his  return  from  India,  where  he  was  Chief  in  Council  and 
highly  esteemed.4  The  Commissioner  is  not  a  very  early  friend  of 
mine,  for  I  scarce  knew  him  till  his  settlement  in  Scotland  with  his 
present  office.*  But  I  have  since  lived  much  with  him,  and  taken 

i  John  Prescott  Knight,  the  young  artist  re-  *  John  Adam,  Esq.,  died  on  shipboard  on  his 

ferred  to,  afterwards  R.  A.,  and  Secretary  to  the  passage  homewards  from  Calcutta,  4th  June 

Academy,  wrote  (in  1871)  to  Sir  William  Stir-  1825.  —J.  o.  L. 

ling  Maxwell,  an   interesting  account  of  the  •  The  Right  Hon.  W.  Adam  of  Blairadam, 

picture  and  its  accidental  destruction  on  the  born  in  1751.    When  trial  by  Jury  in  civil  cases 

very  day  of  Sir  Walter's  death.     Scott  Exhibi-  was  introduced  into  Scotland  in  1815,  he  was 

tion  Catalogue,  4to,  Ediu.  p.  199.    Mr.  Knight  made  Chief  Commissioner  of  the  Jury  Court, 

died  in  1881.  which  office  he  held  till  1830. 

a  To  hain  anything  is,  Anglice,  to  deal  very  Mr.  Lockhart  adds  (Life,  vol.  v.  p.  46):  "This 

carefully,  penuriously  about  it — tyne,  to  lose.  most  amiable  and  venerable  gentleman,  my 

Scott  often  used  to  say  "hain  a  pen  and  tyne  dear  and  kind  friend, died  at  Edinburgh, on  the 

a  pen,"  which  is  nearer  the  proverb  alluded  17th  February  1839,  in  the  89th  year  of  his  age. 

to. — J.  o.  L.  He  retained  his  strong  mental  faculties  in  their 

3  The  late  Sir  William  Forbes,  Baronet,  sue-  perfect  vigour  to  the  last  days  of  this  long  life, 

ceeded  liis  father  (the  biographer  of  Beattie)  as  and  with  them  all  the  warmth  of  social  feelings 

chief  of  the  head  private  banking-house  in  Ed-  which  had  endeared  him  to  all  who  were  so 

inburgh.    Scott's  amiable  friend  died  24th  Oct.  happy  as  to  have  any  opportunity  of  knowing 

1828.— J.G.  L.  him." 


1826.]  JOURNAL  55 

kindly  to  him  as  one  of  the  most  pleasant,  kind-hearted,  benevolent, 
and  pleasing  men  I  have  ever  known.  It  is  high  treason  among  the 
Tories  to  express  regard  for  him,  or  respect  for  the  Jury  Court  in 
which  he  presides.  I  was  against  that  experiment  as  much  as  any 
one.  Bat  it  is  an  experiment,  and  the  establishment  (which  the  fools 
will  not  perceive)  is  the  only  thing  which  I  see  likely  to  give  some 
prospects  of  ambition  to  our  bar,  which  has  been  otherwise  so  much 
diminished.  As  for  the  Chief  Commissioner,  I  dare  say  he  jobs,  as 
all  other  people  of  (Consequence  do,  in  elections,  and  so  forth.  But 
he  is  the  personal  friend  of  the  King,  and  the  decided  enemy  of 
whatever  strikes  at  the  constitutional  rights  of  the  Monarch.  Be- 
sides, I  love  him  for  the  various  changes  which  he  has  endured 
through  life,  and  which  have  been  so  great  as  to  make  him  entitled 
to  be  regarded  in  one  point  of  view  as  the  most  fortunate — in  the 
other,  the  most  unfortunate — man  in  the  world.  He  has  gained  and 
lost  two  fortunes  by  the  same  good  luck,  and  the  same  rash  confi- 
dence, which  raised,  and  now  threatens,  mypeculium.  And  his  quiet, 
honourable,  and  generous  submission  under  circumstances  more  pain- 
ful than  mine, — for  the  loss  of  world's  wealth  was  to  him  aggravated 
by  the  death  of  his  youngest  and  darling  son  in  the  West  Indies, — 
furnished  me  at  the  time  and  now  with  a  noble  example.  So  the 
Tories  and  Whigs  may  go  be  d — d  together,  as  names  that  have  dis- 
turbed old  Scotland,  and  torn  asunder  the  most  kindly  feelings  since 

the  first  day  they  were  invented.     Yes, them,  they  are  spells  to 

rouse  all  our  angry  passions,  and  I  dare  say,  notwithstanding  the 
opinion  of  my  private  and  calm  moments,  I  will  open  on  the  cry 
again  so  soon  as  something  occurs  to  chafe  my  mood ;  and  yet,  God 
knows,  I  would  fight  in  honourable  contest  with  word  or  blow  for 
my  political  opinions;  but  I  cannot  permit  that  strife  to  "mix  its 
waters  with  my  daily  meal,"  those  waters  of  bitterness  which  poison 
all  mutual  love  and  confidence  betwixt  the  well-disposed  on  either 
side,  and  prevent  them,  if  need  were,  from  making  mutual  concessions 
and  balancing  the  constitution  against  the  ultras  of  both  parties.  The 
good  man  seems  something  broken  by  these  afflictions. 

January  21. — Susannah  in  Tristram  Shandy  thinks  death  is  best 
met  in  bed.  I  am  sure  trouble  and  vexation  are  not.  The  watches 
of  the  night  pass  wearily  when  disturbed  by  fruitless  regrets  and  dis- 
agreeable anticipations.  But  let  it  pass. 

"  Well,  Goodman  Time,  or  blunt,  or  keen, 
Move  thou  quick,  or  take  thy  leisure, 
Longest  day  will  have  its  e'en, 
Weariest  life  but  treads  a  measure." 

I  have  seen  Cadell,  who  is  very  much  downcast  for  the  risk  of 
their  copyrights  being  thrown  away  by  "a  hasty  sale.  I  suggested 
that  if  they  went  very  cheap,  some  means  might  be  fallen  on  to  keep 
up  their  value  or  purchase  them  in.  I  fear  the  split  betwixt  Con- 


56  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

stable  and  Cadell  will  render  impossible  what  might  otherwise  be 
hopeful  enough.  It  is  the  Italian  race -horses,  I  think,  which,  in- 
stead of  riders,  have  spurs  tied  to  their  sides,  so  as  to  prick  them 
into  a  constant  gallop.  Cadell  tells  me  their  gross  profit  was  some- 
times £10,000  a  year,  but  much  swallowed  up  with  expenses,  and  his 
partner's  draughts,  which  came  to  £4000  yearly.  What  there  is  to 
show  for  this,  God  knows.  Constable's  apparent  expenses  were  very 
much  within  bounds. 

Colin  Mackenzie  entered,  and  with  his  usual  kindness  engages  to 
use  his  influence  to  recommend  some  moderate  proceeding  to  Con- 
stable's creditors,  such  as  may  permit  him  to  go  on  and  turn  that 
species  of  property  to  account,  which  no  man  alive  can  manage  so 
well  as  he. 

Followed  Mr.  Gibson  with  a  most  melancholy  tale.  Things  are 
so  much  worse  with  Constable  than  I  apprehended  that  I  shall  nei- 
ther save  Abbotsford  nor  anything  else.  Naked  we  entered  the 
world,  and  naked  we  leave  it — blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! 

January  22. — I  feel  neither  dishonoured  nor  broken  down  by  the 
bad — now  really  bad  news  I  have  received.  I  have  walked  my  last 
on  the  domains  I  have  planted — sate  the  last  time  in  the  halls  I  have 
built.  But  death  would  have  taken  them  from  me  if  misfortune  had 
spared  them.  My  poor  people  whom  I  loved  so  well !  There  is  just 
another  die  to  turn  up  against  me  in  this  run  of  ill-luck;  i.e.  if  I 
should  break  my  magic  wand  in  the  fall  from  this  elephant,  and  lose 
my  popularity  with  my  fortune.  Then  Woodstock  and  Bony  may 
both  go  to  the  paper-maker,  and  I  may  take  to  smoking  cigars  and 
drinking  grog,  or  turn  devotee,  and  intoxicate  the  brain  another  way. 
In  prospect  of  absolute  ruin,  I  wonder  if  they  would  let  me  leave  the 
Court  of  Session.  I  would  like,  methinks,  to  go  abroad, 

"And  lay  my  bones  far  from  the  Tweed." 

But  I  find  my  eyes  moistening,  and  that  will  not  do.  I  will  not  yield 
without  a  fight  for  it.  It  is  odd,  when  I  set  myself  to  work  dogged- 
ly, as  Dr.  Johnson  would  say,  I  am  exactly  the  same  man  that  I  ever 
was,  neither  low-spirited  nor  distrait.  In  prosperous  times  I  have 
sometimes  felt  my  fancy  and  powers  of  language  flag,  but  adversity 
is  to  me  at  least  a  tonic  and  bracer ;  the  fountain  is  awakened  from 
its  inmost  recesses,  as  if  the  spirit  of  affliction  had  troubled  it  in  his 
passage. 

Poor  Mr.  Pole  the  harper  sent  to  offer  me  £500  or  £600,  proba- 
bly his  all.1  There  is  much  good  in  the  world,  after  all.  But  I  will 
involve  no  friend,  either  rich  or  poor.  My  own  right  hand  shall  do  it 

i  Mr.  Pole   had  long   attended  Sir  Walter  panied  his  disasters.-^!,  o.  L.     For  Mr.  Pole's 

Scott's  daughters  as  teacher  of  the  harp.     In  letter  see  Life,  vol.  viii.  p.  205.     Mr.  Pole  went 

the  end  Scott  always  spoke  of  his  conduct  as  to  live  in  England  and  died  at  Kensington, 
the  roost  affecting  circumstance  that  acconi- 


1826.]  JOURNAL  5*7 

— else  will  I  be  done  in  the  slang  language,  and  undone  in  common 
parlance. 

I  am  glad  that,  beyond  my  own  family,  who  are,  excepting  L.  S., 
young  and  able  to  bear  sorrow,  of  which  this  is  the  first  taste  to  some 
of  them,  most  of  the  hearts  are  past  aching  which  would  have  once 
been  inconsolable  on  this  occasion.  I  do  not  mean  that  many  will 
not  seriously  regret,  and  some  perhaps  lament,  my  misfortunes.  But 
my  dear  mother,  my  almost  sister,  Christy  R[utherfor]d,'  poor  Will 
Erskine — these  would  have  been  mourners  indeed. 

Well — exertion — exertion.  0  Invention,  rouse  thyself !  May  man 
be  kind !  May  God  be  propitious  !  The  worst  is,  I  never  quite  know 
when  I  am  right  or  wrong ;  and  Ballantyne,  who  does  know  in  some 
degree,  will  fear  to  tell  me.  Lockhart  would  be  worth  gold  just  now, 
but  he  too  would  be  too  diffident  to  speak  broad  out.  All  my  hope 
is  in  the  continued  indulgence  of  the  public.  I  have  a  funeral-letter 
to  the  burial  of  the  Chevalier  Yelin,  a  foreigner  of  learning  and  tal- 
ent, who  has  died  at  the  Royal  Hotel.  He  wished  to  be  introduced 
to  me,  and  was  to  have  read  a  paper  before  the  Royal  Society  when 
this  introduction  was  to  have  taken  place.  I  was  not  at  the  Society 
that  evening,  and  the  poor  gentleman  was  taken  ill  at  the  meeting 
and  unable  to  proceed.  He  went  to  his  bed  and  never  rose  again ; 
and  now  his  funeral  will  be  the  first  public  place  I  shall  appear  at. 
He  dead,  and  I  ruined ;  this  is  what  you  call  a  meeting.3 

January  23. — Slept  ill,  not  having  been  abroad  these  eight  days 
— splendida  bills.  Then  a  dead  sleep  in  the  morning,  and  when  the 
awakening  comes,  a  strong  feeling  how  well  I  could  dispense  with  it 
for  once  and  for  ever.  This  passes  away,  however,  as  better  and 
more  dutiful  thoughts  arise  in  my  mind.  I  know  not  if  my  imagina- 
tion has  flagged  ;  probably  it  has ;  but  at  least  my  powers  of  labour 
have  not  diminished  during  the  last  melancholy  week.  On  Monday 
and  Tuesday  my  exertions  were  suspended.  Since  Wednesday  in- 
clusive I  have  written  thirty-eight  of  my  close  manuscript  pages,  of 
which  seventy  make  a  volume  of  the  usual  Novel  size. 

Wrote  till  twelve  A.M.,  finishing  half  of  what  I  call  a  good  day's 
work — ten  pages  of  print,  or  rather  twelve.  Then  walked  in  Princes 
Street  pleasure-grounds  with  good  Samaritan  James  Skene,  the  only 
one  among  my  numerous  friends  who  can  properly  be  termed  dmicus 
curarum  mearum,  others  being  too  busy  or  too  gay,  and  several  being 
estranged  by  habit.3 

1  Scott's  mother's  sister.    See  Life,  vols.  i.,          3  On  the  morning  of  this  day  Sir  Walter 
iii. ,  v.,  and  vi.  wrote  the  following  note  to  his  friend: — 

"  DKAB  SKENE, — If  you  are  disposed  for  a 

2  Chevalier  Yelin,  the  friend  and  travelling  walk  in  your  gardens  any  time  this  morning, 
companion  of  Baron  D'Eichthal,  was  a  native  I  would  gladly  accompany  you  for  an  hour, 
of  Bavaria.     His  wife  had  told  him  playfully  since  keeping  the  house  BO  long  begins  rather 
that  he  must  not  leave  Scotland  without  hav-  to  hurt  me,  and  you,  who  supported  the  other 
ing  seen  the  great  bard;  and  he  prolonged  his  day  the  weight  of  my  body,  are  perhaps  best 
stay  in  Edinburgh  until  Scott's  return,  hoping  disposed  to  endure  the  gloom  of  uiy  mind. — 
to  meet  him  at  the  Royal  Society  on  this  even-  Yours  ever,  W.  S. 
ing.                                                                                               "  CASTLE  STBIBT,  23  January." 


58  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

The  walks  have  been  conducted  on  the  whole  with  much  taste, 
though  Skene  has  undergone  much  criticism,  the  usual  reward  of 
public  exertions,  on  account  of  his  plans.  It  is  singular  to  walk  close 
beneath  the  grim  old  Castle,  and  to  think  what  scenes  it  must  have 
seen,  and  how  many  generations  of  three  score  and  ten  have  risen 
and  passed  away.  It  is  a  place  to  cure  one  of  too  much  sensation  over 
earthly  subjects  of  mutation.  My  wife  and  girl's  tongues  are  chatting 
in  a  lively  manner  in  the  drawing-room.  It  does  me  good  to  hear  them. 

January  24. — Constable  came  yesterday,  and  saw  me  for  half  an 
hour.  He  seemed  irritable,  but  kept  his  temper  under  command. 
Was  a  little  shocked  when  I  intimated  that  I  was  disposed  to  re- 
gard the  present  works  in  progress  as  my  own.  I  think  I  saw  two 
things: — (1)  That  he  is  desirous  to  return  into  the  management  of 
his  own  affairs  without  Cadell,  if  he  can.  (2)  That  he  relies  on  my 
connection  as  the  way  of  helping  us  out  of  the  slough.  Indeed  he 
said  he  was  ruined  utterly  without  my  countenance.  I  certainly  will 
befriend  him  if  I  can,  but  Constable  without  Cadell  is  like  getting 
the  clock  without  the  pendulum — the  one  having  the  ingenuity,  the 
other  the  caution  of  the  business.  I  will  see  my  way  before  making 
any  bargain,  and  I  will  help  them,  I  am  sure,  if  I  can,  without  endan- 
gering my  last  cast  for  freedom.  Worked  out  my  task  yesterday. 
My  kind  friend  Mrs.  Coutts  has  got  the  cadetship  for  Pringle  Short- 
reed,  in  which  he  was  peculiarly  interested. 

"I  will  call  when  you  please:  all  hours  after  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life,  for  even  the 

twelve  are  the  same  to  me."  burnings  of  political  hate  seemed  to  find  noth- 

On  his  return  from  this  walk,  Mr.  Skene  ing  in  my  nature  to  feed  the  flame.     I  am  not 

wrote  out  his  recollections  of  the  conversation  conscious  of  having  borne  a  grudge  towards 

that  had  taken  place.    Of  his  power  to  rebuild  any  man,  and  at  this  moment  of  my  over- 

his  shattered  fortunes,  Scott  said,  "'But  woe's  throw,  so  help  me  God,  I  wish  well  and  feel 

me,  I  much  mistrust  my  vigour,-for  the  best  kindly  to  every  one.     And  if  I  thought  that 

of  my  energies  are  already  expended.     You  any  of  my  works  contained  a  sentence  hurtful 

have  seen,  my  dear  Skene,  the  Roman  coursers  to  any  one's  feelings,  I  would  burn  it.     I  think 

urged  to  their  speed  by  a  loaded  spur  attached  even  my  novels  (for  he  did  not  disown  any  of 

to  their  backs  to  whet  the  rusty  metal  of  their  them)  are  free  from  that  blame.' 

age, — ay  1  it  is  a  leaden  spur  indeed,  and  it  "He  had  been  led  to  make  this  protestation 

goads  hard.'  from  my  having  remarked  to  him  the  siugu- 

"  I  added,  '  But  what  do  you  think,  Scott,  of  larly  general  feeling  of  goodwill  and  sympathy 

the  bits  of  flaming  paper  that  are  pasted  on  towards  him  which  every  one  was  anxious  to 

the  flanks  of  the  poor  jades  ?    If  we  could  but  testify  upon  the  present  occasion.    The  senti- 

Stick  certain  small  documents  on  your  back,  ments  of  resignation  and  of  cheerful  acquies- 

and  set  fire  to  them,  I  think  you  might  submit  cence    in  the   dispensation  of  the  Almighty 

for  a  time  to  the  pricking  of  the  spur.'    He  which  he  expressed  were  those  of  a  Christian 

laughed,  and  said, 'Ay!  Ay! — these  weary  bills,  thankful  for  the  blessings  left,  and  willing, 

if  they  were  but  as  the  thing  that  is  not— come,  without  ostentation,  to  do  his  best.      It  was 

cheer  me  up  with  an  account  of  the  Roman  really  beautiful  to  see  the  workings  of  a  strong 

Carnival.'    And,  accordingly,  with  my  endeav-  and  upright  mind  under  the  first  lash  of  adver- 

our  to  do  so,  he  seem'ed  as  much  interested  as  sity  calmly  reposing  upon  the  consolation  af- 

if  nothing  had  happened  to  discompose  the  forded  by  his  own  integrity  and  manful  purposes, 

usual  tenor  of  his  mind,  but  still  our  conversa-  'Lately,'  he  said,  'you  saw  me  under  the  ap- 

tion  ever  and  anon  dropt  back  into  the  same  prehension  of  the  decay  of  my  mental  faculties, 

subject,  in  the  course  of  which  he  said  to  me,  and  I  confess  that  I  was  under  mortal  fear  when 

'  Do  you  kno~w  I  experience  a  sort  of  deter-  I  found  myself  writing  one  word  for  another, 

mined  pleasure  in  confronting  the  very  worst  and  misspelling  every  word,  but  that  wore  off, 

aspect  of  this  sudden  reverse,— in  standing,  as  and  was  perhaps  occasioned  by  the  effects  of 

it  were,  in  the  breach  that  has  overthrown  my  the  medicine  I  had  been  taking,  but  have  I  not 

fortunes,  and  saying,  Here  I  stand,  at  least  an  reason  to  be  thankful  that  that  misfortune  did 

honest  man.    And  God  knows,  if  I  have  ene-  not  assail  me? — Ay!  few  have  more  reason  to 

mies,  this  I  may  at  least  with  truth  say,  that  feel  grateful  to  the  Disposer  of  all  events  than 

I  have  never  wittingly  given  cause  of  enmity  I  have.'"— Mr.  Skene's  Reminiscencet. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  59 

I  went  to  the  Court  for  the  first  time  to-day,  and,  like  the  rnan 
with  the  large  nose,  thought  everybody  was  thinking  of  me  and 
my  mishaps.  Many  were,  undoubtedly,  and  all  rather  regrettingly ; 
some  obviously  affected.  It  is  singular  to  see  the  difference  of  men's 
manner  whilst  they  strive  to  be  kind  or  civil  in  their  way  of  address- 
ing me.  Some  smile  as  they  wish  me  good-day,  as  if  to  say,  "  Think 
nothing  about  it,  my  lad ;  it  is  quite  out  of  our  thoughts."  Others 
greeted  me  with  the  affected  gravity  which  one  sees  and  despises  at 
a  funeral.  The  best  bred — all,  I  believe,  meaning  equally  well — just 
shook  hands  and  went  on.  A  foolish  puff  in  the  papers,  calling  on 
men  and  gods  to  assist  a  popular  author,  who,  having  choused  the 
public  of  many  thousands,  had  not  the  sense  to  keep  wealth  when 
he  had  it.  If  I  am  hard  pressed,  and  measures  used  against  me,  I 
must  use  all  means  of  legal  defence,  and  subscribe  myself  bankrupt 
in  a  petition  for  sequestration.  It  is  the  course  I  would  have  advised 
a  client  to  take,  and  would  have  the  effect  of  saving  my  land, 
which  is  secured  by  my  son's  contract  of  marriage.  I  might  save 
my  library,  etc.,  by  assistance  of  friends,  and  bid  my  creditors  de- 
fiance. But  for  this  I  would,  in  a  court  of  honour,  deserve  to  lose 
my  spurs.  No,  if  they  permit  me,  I  will  be  their  vassal  for  life,  and 
dig  in  the  mine  of  my  imagination  to  find  diamonds  (or  what  may 
sell  for  such)  to  make  good  my  engagements,  not  to  enrich  myself. 
And  this  from  no  reluctance  to  allow  myself  to  be  called  the  Insol- 
vent, which  I  probably  am,  but  because  I  will  not  put  out  of  the 
[power]  of  my  creditors  the  resources,  mental  or  literary,  which  yet 
remain  to  me. 

Went  to  the  funeral  of  Chevalier  Yelin,  the  literary  foreigner 
mentioned  on  22d.  How  many  and  how  various  are  the  ways  of 
affliction !  Here  is  this  poor  man  dying  at  a  distance  from  home, 
his  proud  heart  broken,  his  wife  and  family  anxiously  expecting  let- 
ters, and  doomed  only  to  learn  they  have  lost  a  husband  and  father 
for  ever.  He  lies  buried  on  the  Calton  Hill,  near  learned  and  scien- 
tific dust — the  graves  of  David  Hume  and  John  Playfair  being  side 
by  side. 

January  25. — Anne  is  ill  this  morning.  May  God  help  us!  If 
it  should  prove  serious,  as  I  have  known  it  in  such  cases,  where  am  I 
to  find  courage  or  comfort  ?  A  thought  has  struck  me — Can  we  do 
nothing  for  creditors  with  the  goblin  drama,  called  Fortunes  of  De- 
vorgoil  ?  Could  it  not  be  added  to  Woodstock  as  a  fourth  volume  ? 
Terry  refused  a  gift  of  it,  but  he  was  quite  and  entirely  wrong ;  it  is 
not  good,  but  it  may  be  made  so.  Poor  Will  Erskine  liked  it  much.1 

1  "The  energy  with  which  Sir  Walter  had  hausted.  However,  the  employment  served 
set  about  turning  his  resources,  both  present  to  occupy  his  mind,  and  prevent  its  brooding 
and  past,  to  immediate  account,  with  a  view  over  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  him, 
to  prove  to  his  creditors,  with  as  little  delay  as  and  joined  to  the  natural  contentedness  of  his 
possible,  that  all  that  could  depend  upon  him-  disposition  prevented  any  approach  of  despond- 
self  should  be  put  in  operation  to  retrieve  his  ency.  'Here  is  an  old  effort  of  mine  to  corn- 
affairs,  made  him  often  reluctant  to  quit  his  pose  a  melo-drama'  (showing  me  one  day  a 
study  however  much  he  found  himself  ex-  bundle  of  papers  which  he  had  found  in  his 


60  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

Gave  my  wife  her  £12  allowance.  £24  to  last  till  Wednesday  fort- 
night. 

January  26. — Spoke  to  J.  B.  last  night  about  Devorgoil,  who 
does  not  seem  to  relish  the  proposal,  alleging  the  comparative  failure 
of  Halidon  Hill.  Ay,  says  Self-Conceit,  but  he  has  not  read  it ;  and 
when  he  does,  it  is  the  sort  of  wild  fanciful  work  betwixt  heaven  and 
earth,  which  men  of  solid  parts  do  not  estimate.  Pepys  thought 
Shakespeare's  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  the  most  silly  play  he  had 
ever  seen,  and  Pepys  was  probably  judging  on  the  same  grounds  with 
J.  B.,  though  presumptuous  enough  to  form  conclusions  against  a  very 
different  work  from  any  of  mine.  How  if  I  send  it  to  Lockhart  by 
and  by  ? 

I  called  to-day  at  Constable's;  both  partners  seemed  secure  that 
Hurst  and  Robinson  were  to  go  on  and  pay.  Strange  that  they  should 
have  stopped.  Constable  very  anxious  to  have  husbanding  of  the 
books.  I  told  him  the  truth  that  I  would  be  glad  to  have  his  assist- 
ance, and  that  he  should  have  the  benefit  of  the  agency,  but  that  he 
was  not  to  consider  past  transactions  as  a  rule  for  selling  them  in 
future,  since  I  must  needs  make  the  most  out  of  the  labours  I 
could :  item,  that  I,  or  whoever  might  act  for  me,  would  of  course, 
after  what  has  happened,  look  especially  to  the  security.  He  said 
if  Hurst  and  Robinson  were  to  go  on,  bank  notes  would  be  laid 
down.  I  conceive  indeed  that  they  would  take  Woodstock  and  Na- 
poleon almost  at  loss  rather  than  break  the  connection  in  the  public 
eye.  Sir  William  Arbuthnot  and  Mr.  Kinnear  were  very  kind.  But 
cui  bono  ?l 


repositories).  '  This  trifle  would  have  been  long  and  had  Shakespeare  been  of  this  date  he  might 

ago  destroyed  had  it  not  been  for  our  poor  have  been  left  to  die  a  deer-stealer.     'Well, 

friend  Kinnedder,  who  arrested  my  hand  as  he  then,  with  all  my  heart,  if  they  can  get  the 

thought  it  not  bad,  and  for  his  sake  it  was  beast  to  lead  or  to  drive,  they  may  bring  it  on. 

kept.    I  have  just  read  it  over,  and,  do  you  the  stage  if  they  like.     It  is  a  sort  of  goblin 

know,  with  some  satisfaction.     Faith,  I  have  tale,  and  so  was  the  Castle  Spectre,  which  had 

known  many  worse  things  make  their  way  very  its  run. '    I  asked  him  if  the  Castle  Spectre  had 

well  in  the  world,  so,  God  willing,  it  shall  e'en  yielded  Lewis  much.    'Little  of  that,  in  fact  to 

see  the  light,  if  it  can  do  aught  in  the  hour  of  its  author  absolutely  nothing,  and  yet  its  merits 

need  to  help  the  hand  that  fashioned  it.'   Upon  ought  to  have  brought  something  handsome  to 

asking  the  name  of  this  production,  he  said, '  I  poor  Mat.     But  Sheridan,  then  manager,  you 

suspect  I  must  change  it,  having  already  fore-  know,  generally  paid  jokes  instead  of  cash,  and 

stalled  it  by  the  Fortunes  of  Nigel.    I  had  call-  the  joke  that  poor  Mat  got  was,  after  all.  not  a 

ed  it  by  the  Fortunes  of  Devorgoil,  but  we  must  bad  one.     Have  you  heard  it?    Don't  let  me 

not  begin  to  double  up  in  that  way,  for  if  you  tell  you  a  story  you  know.'   As  I  had  not  heard 

leave  anything  hanging  loose,  you  may  be  sure  it.  he  proceeded.     'Well,  they  were  disputing 

that  some  malicious  devil  will  tug  at  it.    I  think  about  something,  and  Lewis  had  clenched  his 

I  shall  call  it  The  Doom  of  Devorgoil.     It  will  argument  by  proposing  to  lay  a  bet  about  it.    I 

make  a  volume  of  itself,  and  I  do  not  see  why  shall  lay  what  you  ought  long  ago  to  have  paid 

it  should  not  come  out  by  particular  desire  as  a  me  for  my  Castle  Spectre.    "No,  no,  Mat, "  said 

fourth  volume  to  Woodstock.    They  have  some  Sheridan,  "I  never  lay  large  bets;  but  corne,  I 

sort  of  connection,  and  it  would  not  be  a  diffl-  will  bet  a  trifle  with  you  —  I'll  bet  what  the 

cult  matter  to  bind  the  connection  a  little  closer.  Castle   Spectre  was  worth."     Now  Constable 

As  the  market  goes,  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  Bib-  managed  differently ;  he  paid  well  and  prompt- 

liopolist  pronouncing  it  worth  £1000,  or  £1500. '  ly,  but  devil  take  him,  it  was  all  spectral  to- 

I  asked  him  if  he  meant  it  for  the  stage.    'No,  gether.     Moonshine  and  no  merriment.     He 

no;  the  stage  is  a  sorry  job,  that  course  will  not  sowed  my  field  with  one  hand,  and  as  liberally 

do  for  these  hard  days;   besides,  there  is  too  scattered  the  tares  with  the  other.'" — Mr. 

much  machinery  in  the  piece  for  the  stage.'  Skene's  Reminiscences. 

I  observed  that  I  was  not  sure  of  that,  for  pag-          '  These  two  gentlemen  were  at  this  time  Di- 

eant  and  machinery  was  the  order  of  the  day,  rectors  of  the  Bank  of  Scotland 


1826.J  JOURNAL  61 

Gibson  comes  with  a  joyful  face  announcing  all  the  creditors  had 
unanimously  agreed  to  a  private  trust.  This  is  handsome  and  confi- 
dential, and  must  warm  my  best  efforts  to  get  them  out  of  the  scrape. 
I  will  not  doubt — to  doubt  is  to  lose.  Sir  William  Forbes  took  the 
chair,  and  behaved  as  he  has  ever  done,  with  the  generosity  of  ancient 
faith  and  early  friendship.  They1  are  deeper  concerned  than  most. 
In  what  scenes  have  Sir  William  and  I  not  borne  share  together — 
desperate,  and  almost  bloody  affrays,  rivalries,  deep  drinking-matches, 
and,  finally,  with  the  kindest  feelings  on  both  sides,  somewhat  sepa- 
rated by  his  retiring  much  within  the  bosom  of  his  family,  and  I  mov- 
ing little  beyond  mine.  It  is  fated  our  planets  should  cross  though, 
and  that  at  the  periods  most  interesting  for  me.  Down — down — a 
hundred  thoughts. 

Jane  Russell  drank  tea  with  us. 

I  hope  to  sleep  better  to-night.  If  I  do  not  I  shall  get  ill,  and 
then  I  cannot  keep  my  engagements.  Is  it  not  odd  ?  I  can  com- 
mand my  eyes  to  be  awake  when  toil  and  weariness  sit  on  my  eye- 
lids, but  to  draw  the  curtain  of  oblivion  is  beyond  my  power.  I  re- 
member some  of  the  wild  Buccaneers,  in  their  impiety,  succeeded 
pretty  well  by  shutting  hatches  and  burning  brimstone  and  assafoeti- 
da  in  making  a  tolerable  imitation  of  hell — but  the  pirates'  heaven  was 
a  wretched  affair.  It  is  one  of  the  worst  things  about  this  system  of 
ours,  that  it  is  a  hundred  times  more  easy  to  inflict  pain  than  to  cre- 
ate pleasure. 

January  27. — Slept  better  and  less  bilious,  owing  doubtless  to  the 
fatigue  of  the  preceding  night,  and  the  more  comfortable  news.  I 
drew  my  salaries  of  various  kinds  amounting  to  £300  and  upwards 
and  sent,  with  John  Gibson's  consent,  £200  to  pay  off  things  at  Ab- 
botsford  which  must  be  paid.  Wrote  Laidlaw  with  the  money,  di- 
recting him  to  make  all  preparations  for  reduction.2  Anne  ill  of  rheu- 
matism :  I  believe  caught  cold  by  vexation  and  exposing  herself  to 
bad  weather. 

The  Celtic  Society  present  me  with  the  most  splendid  broadsword 
I  ever  saw  ;  a  beautiful  piece  of  art,  and  a  most  noble  weapon.  Hon- 
ourable Mr.  Stuart  (second  son  of  the  Earl  of  Moray),  General  Graham 
Stirling,  and  MacDougal,  attended  as  a  committee  to  present  it.  This 

1  Sir  W.  Forbes  and  Co.  's  Banking  House.  Observe,  I  am  not  in  indigence,  though  no  lon- 

«  An  extract  from  what  is  probably  the  let-  ger  in  affluence,  and  if  I  am  to  exert  myself  in 

tor  to  Laidlaw  written  ou  this  day  was  printed  the  common  behalf,  I  must  have  honourable 

in   C/tambers's  Journal  for  July  1845.      The  and  easy  means  of  life,  although  it  will  be  my 

italics  are  the  editor's: —  inclination  to  observe  the  most  strict  privacy, 

"  For  you,  my  dear  friend,  we  must  part —  the  better  to  save  expense,  and  also  time.   Lady 

that  is.  as  hurd  and  factor— and  it  rejoices  me  Scott's  spirits  were  affected  at  first,  but  she  is 

to  think  that  your  patience  and  endurance,  getting  better.     For  myself,  I  feel  like  the  Eil- 

which  set  me  so  good  an  example,  are  like  to  don  Hills — quite  firm,  though  a  little  cloudy. 
bring  round  better  days.    You  never  flattered          "I  do  not  dislike  the  path  that  lies  before 

my  prosperity,  and  in  my  adversity  it  is  not  me.    I  have  seen  all  that  society  can  show,  and 

the  least  painful  consideration  that  I  cannot  enjoyed  all  that  wealth  can  give  me,  and  I  am 

any  longer  be  useful  to  you.     But  Kaeside,  I  satisfied  much  is  vanity,  if  not  vexation  of 

hope,  will  still  be  your  residence,  and  I  will  spirit.    What  can  I  say  more,  except  that  I 

have  the  advantage  of  your  company  and  ad-  will  write  to  you  the  instant  I  know  what  is  to 

vice,  and  probably  your  service  as  amanuensis.  be  done." 


62  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

was  very  kind  of  my  friends  the  Celts,  witli  whom  I  have  had  so 
many  merry  meetings.  It  will  be  a  rare  legacy  to  Walter  ;  —  for  my- 
self, good  lack  !  it  is  like  Lady  Dowager  Don's  prize  in  a  lottery  of 
hardware  ;  she  —  a  venerable  lady  who  always  wore  a  haunch-hoop, 
silk  neglige,  and  triple  ruffles  at  the  elbow  —  having  the  luck  to  gain 
a  pair  of  silver  spurs  and  a  whip  to  correspond. 

January  28.  —  Ballantyne  and  Cadell  wish  that  Mr.  Alex.  Cowan 
should  be  Constable's  Trustee  instead  of  J.  B.'s.  Gibson  is  deter- 
mined to  hold  by  Cowan.  I  will  not  interfere,  although  I  think  Cow- 
an's services  might  do  us  more  good  as  Constable's  Trustee  than  as 
our  own,  but  I  will  not  begin  with  thwarting  the  managers  of  my  af- 
fairs, or  even  exerting  strong  influence  ;  it  is  not  fair.  These  last  four 
or  five  days  I  have  wrought  little  ;  to-day  I  set  on  the  steam  and  ply 
my  paddles. 

January  29.  —  The  proofs  of  vol.  i.1  came  so  thick  in  yesterday 
that  much  was  not  done.  But  I  began  to  be  hard  at  work  to-day,  and 
must  not  gurnalise  much. 

Mr.  Jollie,  who  is  to  be  my  trustee,  in  conjunction  with  Gibson, 
came  to  see  me  ;  —  a  pleasant  and  good-humoured  man,  and  has  high 
reputation  as  a  man  of  business.  I  told  him,  and  I  will  keep  my  word, 
that  he  would  at  least  have  no  trouble  by  my  interfering  and  thwart- 
ing their  management,  which  is  the  not  unfrequent  case  of  trusters 
and  trustees.* 

Constable's  business  seems  unintelligible.  No  man  thought  the 
house  worth  less  than  £150,000.  Constable  told  me  when  he  was 
making  his  will  that  he  was  worth  £80,000.  Great  profits  on  almost 
all  the  adventures.  No  bad  speculations  —  yet  neither  stock  nor  debt 
to  show.  Constable  might  have  eaten  up  his  share  ;  but  Cadell  was 
very  frugal.  No  doubt  trading  almost  entirely  on  accommodation  is 
dreadfully  expensive.3 

January  30.  —  False  delicacy.  Mr.  Gibson,  Mr.  Cowan,  Mr.  J.  B., 
were  with  me  last  night  to  talk  over  important  matters,  and  suggest 
an  individual  for  a  certain  highly  confidential  situation.  I  was  led 
to  mention  a  person  of  whom  I  knew  nothing  but  that  he  was  an  hon- 
est and  intelligent  man.  All  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and  agreed  to  move 
the  thing  to  the  party  concerned  this  aiorning,  and  so  Mr.  G.  and  Mr. 
C.  left  me,  when  J.  B.  let  out  that  it  was  their  unanimous  opinion 
that  we  should  be  in  great  trouble  were  the  individual  appointed, 
from  faults  of  temper,  etc.,  which  would  make  it  difficult  to  get  on 

i  Life  of  Bonaparte.  (?)  million  sterling.    Sir  Walter,  as  the  partner  of 

9  (IT«  «i,A  »  r.f  -h-,a  TV,,**  i)  u.  Ballantyne  and  Co..  was  held  responsible  for 

«  "In  the  management  of  his  Trust,"  Mr.  Dhnn»  *i«m  nm-    this  Hr<rP  sum  was  iiltimatolv 

Gibson  remarks,  '  '  everything  went  on  harmo-  £a?d  in  ful'lTv'lscoU  ami  h"s  ^rei 


fr. 

self,  but  my  co-Trustees  giving  their  jaluable  f   h    amounts  due     It  mugt  be 

fn  ifi  required.  »-*enunw-  ke|)\  ,n  mind  however,  as  far  as  Constable's 

vx  i  P-  house-  was  concerned,  that  their  property  ap- 

'  The   total   liabilities   of   the  three  firms  pears  to  have  been  foolishly  sacrificed  by  forced 

amounted  in  round  numbers  to  nearly  half-a-  sales  of  copyrights  and  stock. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  63 

with  him.  With  a  hearty  curse  I  hurried  J.  B.  to  let  them  know  that 
I  had  no  partiality  for  the  man  whatever,  and  only  named  him  because 
he  had  been  proposed  for  a  similar  situation  elsewhere.  This  is  pro- 
voking enough,  that  they  would  let  me  embarrass  my  affairs  with  a 
bad  man  (an  unfit  one,  I  mean)  rather  than  contradict  me.  I  dare  say 
great  men  are  often  used  so. 

I  laboured  freely  yesterday.  The  stream  rose  fast — if  clearly,  is 
another  question  ;  but  there  is  bulk  for  it,  at  least — about  thirty  print- 
ed pages. 

"And  now  again,  boys,  to  the  oar." 

January  31. — There  being  nothing  in  the  roll  to-day,  I  stay  at 
home  from  the  Court,  and  add  another  day's  perfect  labour  to  Wood- 
stock, which  is  worth  five  days  of  snatched  intervals,  when  the  cur- 
rent of  thought  and  invention  is  broken  in  upon,  and  the  mind  shaken 
and  diverted  from  its  purpose  by  a  succession  of  petty  interrup- 
tions. I  have  now  no  pecuniary  provisions  to  embarrass  me,  and  I 
think,  now  the  shock  of  the  discovery  is  past  and  over,  I  am  much 
better  off  on  the  whole ;  I  am  as  if  I  had  shaken  off  from  my  shoul- 
ders a  great  mass  of  garments,  rich,  indeed,  but  cumbrous,  and  always 
more  a  burden  than  a  comfort.  I  am  free  of  an  hundred  petty  public 
duties  imposed  on  me  as  a  man  of  consideration — of  the  expense  of 
a  great  hospitality — and,  what  is  better,  of  the  great  waste  of  time 
connected  with  it.  I  have  known,  in  my  day,  all  kinds  of  society, 
and  can  pretty  well  estimate  how  much  or  how  little  one  loses  by  re- 
tiring from  all  but  that  which  is  very  intimate.  I  sleep  and  eat,  and 
work  as  I  was  wont ;  and  if  I  could  see  those  about  me  as  indifferent 
to  the  loss  of  rank  as  I  am,  I  should  be  completely  happy.  As  it  is, 
Time  must  salve  that  sore,  and  to  Time  I  trust  it. 

Since  the  14th  of  this  month  no  guest  has  broken  bread  in  my 
house  save  G.  H.  Gordon1  one  morning  at  breakfast.  This  happened 
never  before  since  I  had  a  house  of  my  own.  But  I  have  played 
Abou  Hassan  long  enough  ;  and  if  the  Caliph  came  I  would  turn  him 
back  again. 

1  Mr.  Gordon  was  at  this  time  Scott's  amanuensis ;  he  copied,  that  is  to  say,  the  MS.  for 
press.— j.  G.  L. 


FEBRUARY 

February  1. — A  most  generous  letter  (though  not  more  so  than  I 
expected)  from  Walter  and  Jane,  offering  to  interpose  with  their  fort- 
une, etc.  God  Almighty  forbid !  that  were  too  unnatural  in  me  to 
accept,  though  dutiful  and  affectionate  in  them  to  offer.  They  talk 
of  India  still.  With  my  damaged  fortune  I  cannot  help  them  to  re- 
main by  exchange,  and  so  forth.  He  expects,  if  they  go,  to  go  out 
eldest  Captain,  when,  by  staying  two  or  three  years,  he  will  get  the 
step  of  Major.  His  whole  thoughts  are  with  his  profession,  and  I 
understand  that  when  you  quit  or  exchange,  when  a  regiment  goes  on 
distant  or  disagreeable  service,  you  are  not  accounted  as  serious  in 
your  profession  ;  God  send  what  is  -for  the  best !  Remitted  Charles 
a  bill  for  £40 — £35  advance  at  Christmas  makes  £75.  He  must  be 
frugal. 

Attended  the  Court,  and  saw  J.  B.  and  Cadell  as  I  returned.  Both 
very  gloomy.  Came  home  to  work,  etc.,  about  two. 

February  2. — An  odd  visit  this  morning  from  Miss  Jane  Bell  of 
North  Shields,  whose  law-suit  with  a  Methodist  parson  of  the  name 
of  Hill  made  some  noise.  The  worthy  divine  had  in  the  basest  man- 
ner interfered  to  prevent  this  lady's  marriage  by  two  anonymous  let- 
ters, in  which  he  contrived  to  refer  the  lover,  to  whom  they  were  ad- 
dressed, for  further  corroboration  to  himself.  The  whole  imposition 
makes  the  subject  of  a  little  pamphlet  published  by  Marshall,  Newcastle. 
The  lady  ventured  for  redress  into  the  thicket  of  English  law — lost 
one  suit — gained  another,  with  £300  damages,  and  was  ruined.  The 
appearance  and  person  of  Miss  Bell  are  prepossessing.  She  is  about 
thirty  years  old,  a  brunette,  with  regular  and  pleasing  features,  marked 
with  melancholy, — an  enthusiast  in  literature,  and  probably  in  relig- 
ion. She  had  been  at  Abbotsford  to  see  me,  and  made  her  way  to  me 
here,  in  the  vain  hope  that  she  couldget  her  story  worked  up  into  a 
novel ;  and  certainly  the  thing  is  capable  of  interesting  situations. 
It  throws  a  curious  light  upon  the  aristocratic  or  rather  hieratic  in- 
fluence exercised  by  the  Methodist  preachers  within  the  connection,  as 
it  is  called.  Admirable  food  this  would  be  for  the  Quarterly,  or  any 
other  reviewers  who  might  desire  to  feed  fat  their  grudge  against 
these  sectarians.  But  there  are  two  reasons  against  such  a  publica- 
tion. First,  it  would  do  the  poor  sufferer  no  good.  Secondly,  it 
might  hurt  the  Methodistic  connection  very  much,  which  I  for  one 
would  not  like  to  injure.  They  have  their  faults,  and  are  peculiarly 
liable  to  those  of  hypocrisy,  and  spiritual  ambition,  and  priestcraft. 


FEB.  1826.]  JOURNAL  65 

On  the  other  hand,  they  do  infinite  good,  carrying  religion  into  classes 
in  society  where  it  would  scarce  be  found  to  penetrate,  did  it  rely 
merely  upon  proof  of  its  doctrines,  upon  calm  reasoning,  and  upon 
rational  argument.  Methodists  add  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  feel- 
ings and  passions  ;  and  though  I  believe  this  is  often  exaggerated 
into  absolute  enthusiasm,  yet  I  consider  upon  the  whole  they  do  much 
to  keep  alive  a  sense  of  religion,  and  the  practice  of  morality  neces- 
sarily connected  with  it.  It  is  much  to  the  discredit  of  the  Metho- 
dist clergy,  that  when  this  calumniator  was  actually  convicted  of 
guilt  morally  worse  than  many  men  are  hanged  for,  they  only  degraded 
him  from  the  first  to  the  second  class  of  their  preachers, — leaving  a 
man  who  from  mere  hatred  at  Miss  Bell's  brother,  who  was  a  preacher 
like  himself,  had  proceeded  in  such  a  deep  and  infamous  scheme 
to  ruin  the  character  and  destroy  the  happiness  of  an  innocent  per- 
son, in  possession  of  the  pulpit,  and  an  authorised  teacher  of  others. 
If  they  believed  him  innocent  they  did  too  much — if  guilty,  far  too 
little.1 

I  wrote  to  my  nephew  Walter  to-day,  cautioning  him  against  a 
little  disposition  which  he  has  to  satire  or  mechancete,  which  may  be 
a  great  stumbling-block  in  his  course  in  life.  Otherwise  I  presage 
well  of  him.  He  is  lieutenant  of  engineers,  with  high  character  for 
mathematical  science  —  is  acute,  very  well-mannered,  and,  I  think, 
good-hearted.  He  has  seen  enough  of  the  world  too,  to  regulate  his 
own  course  through  life,  better  than  most  lads  at  his  age. 

February  3. — This  is  the  first  morning  since  my  troubles  that  I 
felt  at  waking 

"  I  had  drunken  deep 
Of  all  the  blessedness  of  sleep." 2 

I  made  not  the  slightest  pause,  nor  dreamed  a  single  dream,  nor  even 
changed  my  side.  This  is  a  blessing  to  be  grateful  for.  There  is  to 
be  a  meeting  of  the  creditors  to-day,  but  I  care  not  for  the  issue.  If 
they  drag  me  into  the  Court,  obtorto  collo,  instead  of  going  into  this 
scheme  of  arrangement,  they  would  do  themselves  a  great  injury,  and, 
perhaps,  eventually  do  me  good,  though  it  would  give  me  much  pain. 
James  Ballantyne  is  severely  c%tical  on  what  he  calls  imitations  of 
Mrs.  Radcliffe  in  Woodstock.  Many  will  think  with  him,  yet  I  am  of 
opinion  he  is  quite  wrong,  or,  as  friend  J.  F[errier]  says,  vrong.3  In 
the  first  place,  I  am  to  look  on  the  mere  fact  of  another  author  hav- 
ing treated  a  subject  happily  as  a  bird  looks  on  a  potato-bogle  which 
scares  it  away  from  a  field  otherwise  as  free  to  its  depredations  as  any 
one's  else  !  In  2d  place,  I  have  taken  a  wide  difference :  my  object  is 


1  The  Cause  of  Truth.  Defended,  etc.     Two  3  James  Ferrier,  one  of  the  Clerks  of  Ses- 

Trials  of  the  Rev.  T.  Hill,  Methodist  Preacher,  sion,— the  father  of  the  authoress  of  Marriage, 

for  defamation  of  the  character  of  Miss  Bell,  The  Inheritance,  and  Destiny.     Mr.  Ferrier  was 

etc.  etc.     8vo.     Hull  and  London,  1827.  born  in  1744,  and  died  iu  1829. 

a  Coleridge's  Christahel,  Part  u. 
5 


66  JOURNAL  [FKB. 

not  to  excite  fear  of  supernatural  things  in  my  reader,  but  to  show  the 
effect  of  such  fear  upon  the  agents  in  the  story — one  a  man  of  sense 
and  firmness — one  a  man  unhinged  by  remorse — one  a  stupid  unin- 
quiring  clown — one  a  learned  and  worthy,  but  superstitious  divine.  In 
the  third  place,  the  book  turns  on  this  hinge,  and  cannot  want  it.  But 
I  will  try  to  insinuate  the  refutation  of  Aldiboronti's  exception  into 
the  prefatory  matter. 

From  the  19th  January  to  the  2d  February  inclusive  is  exact- 
ly fifteen  days,  during  which  time,  with  the  intervention .  of  some 
days'  idleness,  to  let  imagination  brood  on  the  task  a  little,  I  have 
written  a  volume.  I  think,  for  a  bet,  I  could  have  done  it  in  ten  days. 
Then  I  must  have  had  no  Court  of  Session  to  take  me  up  two  or 
three  hours  every  morning,  and  dissipate  my  attention  and  powers  of 
working  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  A  volume,  at  cheapest,  is  worth 
£1000.  This  is  working  at  the  rate  of  £24,000  a  year ;  but  then  we 
must  not  bake  buns  faster  than  people  have  appetite  to  eat  them. 
They  are  not  essential  to  the  market,  like  potatoes. 

John  Gibson  came  to  tell  me  in  the  evening  that  a  meeting  to-day 
had  approved  of  the  proposed  trust.  I  know  not  why,  but  the  news 
gives  me  little  concern.  I  heard  it  as  a  party  indifferent.  I  remem- 
ber hearing  that  Mandrin1  testified  some  horror  when  he  found  him- 
self bound  alive  on  the  wheel,  and  saw  an  executioner  approach  with 
a  bar  of  iron  to  break  his  limbs.  After  the  second  and  third  blow  he 
fell  a-laughing,  and  being  asked  the  reason  by  his  confessor,  said  he 
laughed  at  his  own  folly  which  had  anticipated  increased  agony  at 
every  blow,  when  it  was  obvious  that  the  first  must  have  jarred  and 
confounded  the  system  of  the  nerves  so  much  as  to  render  the  suc- 
ceeding blows  of  little  consequef  ce.  I  suppose  it  is  so  with  the  moral 
feelings ;  at  least  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  be  anxious  whether  these 
matters  were  settled  one  way  or  another. 

February  4. — Wrote  to  Mr.  Laidlaw  to  come  to  town  upon  Mon- 
day and  see  the  trustees.  To  farm  or  not  to  farm,  that  is  the  ques- 
tion. With  our  careless  habits,  it  were  best,  I  think,  to  risk  as  little 
as  possible.  Lady  Scott  will  not  exceed  with  ready  money  in  her 
hand ;  but  calculating  on  the  produce  of  a  farm  is  different,  and  nei- 
ther she  nor  I  are  capable  of  that  minute  economy.  Two  cows  should 
be  all  we  should  keep.  But  I  find  Lady  S.  inclines  much  for  the  four. 
If  she  had  her  youthful  activity,  and  could  manage  things,  it  would 
be  well,  and  would  amuse  her.  But  I  fear  it  is  too  late  a  week. 

Returned  from  Court  by  Constable's,  and  found  Cadell  had  fled  to 
the  sanctuary,  being  threatened  with  ultimate  diligence  by  the  Bank 
of  Scotland.  If  this  be  a  vindictive  movement,  it  is  harsh,  useless, 
and  bad  of  them,  and  flight,  on  the  contrary,  seems  no  good  sign  on 

i  "Authentic  Memoirs  of  the  remarkable  defiance  of  the  whole  army  of  France,"  etc. 

Life  and  surprising  Exploits  of  Mandarin,  Cap-  8vo.    Lend.  1755.     See  Waverley  Novels.  voL 

tain-General  of  the  French  Smugglers,  who  for  xxxvii.  p.  434,  Note — i.  G.  u 
the  space  of  nine  months  resolutely  stood  in 


1826.J  JOURNAL  67 

his  part.    I  hope  he  won't  prove  his  father  or  grandfather  at  Preston- 
pans  : — 

"  Cadell  dressed  among  the  rest, 

Wi'  gun  and  good  claymore,  man, 
On  gelding  grey  he  rode  that  day, 

Wi'  pistols  set  before,  man. 
The  cause  was  gude,  he'd  spend  his  blude 

Before  that  he  would  yield,  man, 
But  the  night  before  he  left  the  corps, 

And  never  faced  the  field,  man."  l 

Harden  and  Mrs.  Scott  called  on  Mamma.  I  was  abroad.  Henry 
called  on  me.  Wrote  only  two  pages  (of  manuscript)  and  a  half  to- 
day. As  the  boatswain  said,  one  can't  dance  always  nowther,  but, 
were  we  sure  of  the  quality  of  the  stuff,  what  opportunities  for  labour 
does  this  same  system  of  retreat  afford  us !  I  am  convinced  that  in 
three  years  I  could  do  more  than  in  the  last  ten,  but  for  the  mine  be- 
ing, I  fear,  exhausted.  Give  me  my  popularity — an  awful  postulate! 
— and  all  my  present  difficulties  shall  be  a  joke  in  five  years ;  and  it 
is  not  lost  yet,  at  least. 

February  5. — Rose  after  a  sound  sleep,  and  here  am  I  without  bile 
or  anything  to  perturb  my  inward  man.  It  is  just  about  three  weeks 
since  so  great  a  change  took  place  in  my  relations  in  society,  and  al- 
ready I  am  indifferent  to  it.  But  I  have  been  always  told  my  feelings 
of  joy  and  sorrow,  pleasure  and  pain,  enjoyment  and  privation,  are 
much  colder  than  those  of  other  people. 

"I  think  the  Romans  call  it  stoicism."2 
I 

Missie  was  in  the  drawing-room,  and  overheard  William  Clerk  and 
me  laughing  excessively  at  some  foolery  or  other  in  the  back-room,  to 
her  no  small  surprise,  which  she  did  not  keep  to  herself.  But  do  peo- 
ple suppose  that  he  was  less  sorry  for  his  poor  sister,'  or  I  for  my  lost 
fortune  ?  If  I  have  a  very  strong  passion  in  the  world,  it  is  pride,  and 
that  never  hinged  upon  world's  gear,  which  was  always  with  me — 
Light  come,  light  go. 

February  6. — Letters  received  yesterday  from  Lord  Montagu,  John 
Morritt,  and  Mrs.  Hughes — kind  and  dear  friends  all — with  solicitous 
inquiries.  But  it  is  very  tiresome  to  tell  my  story  over  again,  and  I 
really  hope  I  have  few  more  friends  intimate  enough  to  ask  me  for  it. 
I  dread  letter-writing,  and  envy  the  old  hermit  of  Prague,  who  never 
saw  pen  or  ink.  What  then  ?  One  must  write  ;  it  is  a  part  of  the  law 
we  live  on.  Talking  of  writing,  I  finished  my  six  pages,  neat  and 
handsome,  yesterday.  N.B.  At  night  I  fell  asleep,  and  the  oil  drop- 
ped from  the  lamp  upon  my  manuscript.  Will  this  extreme  unction 
make  it  go  smoothly  down  with  the  public  ? 

i  See  Tranent  Muir  by  Skirving.  3  See  p.  52. 

*  Addison,  Catot  i.  4. 


68  JOURNAL  [Fun. 

Thus  idly  we  "  profane  the  sacred  time " 
By  silly  prose,  light  jest,  and  lighter  rhyme.1 

I  have  a  song  to  write,  too,  and  I  am  not  thinking  of  it.  I  trust 
it  will  come  upon  me  at  once — a  sort  of  catch  it  should  he.2  I  walked 
out,  feeling  a  little  overwrought.  Saw  Constable  and  turned  over 
Clarendon.  Cadell  not  yet  out  of  hiding.  This  is  simple  work. 
Obliged  to  borrow  £240,  to  be  refunded  in  spring,  from  John  Gib- 
son, to  pay  my  nephew's  outfit  and  passage  to  Bombay.  I  wish  I 
could  have  got  this  money  otherwise,  but  I  must  not  let  the  orphan 
boy,  and  such  a  clever  fellow,  miscarry  through  my  fault.  His  edu- 
cation, etc.,  has  been  at  my  expense  ever  since  he  came  from  America. 

February  7. — Had  letters  yesterday  from  Lady  Davy  and  Lady 
Louisa  Stuart,3  two  very  different  persons.  Lady  Davy,  daughter  and 
co-heiress  of  a  wealthy  Antigua  merchant,  has  been  known  to  me  all 
my  life.  Her  father  was  a  relation  of  ours  of  a  Scotch  calculation. 
He  was  of  a  good  family,  Kerr  of  Bloodielaws,  but  decayed.  Miss 
Jane  Kerr  married  first  Mr.  Apreece,  son  of  a  Welsh  Baronet.  The 
match  was  not  happy.  I  had  lost  all  acquaintance  with  her  for  a 
long  time,  when  about  twenty  years  ago  we  renewed  it  in  London. 
She  was  then  a  widow,  gay,  clever,  and  most  actively  ambitious  to 
play  a  distinguished  part  in  London  society.  Her  fortune,  though 
handsome  and  easy,  was  not  large  enough  to  make  way  by  dint  of 
showy  entertainments,  and  so  forth.  So  she  took  the  blue  line,  and 
by  great  tact  and  management  actually  established  herself  as  a  leader 
of  literary  fashion.  Soon  after,  she  visited  Edinburgh  for  a  season 
or  two,  and  studied  the  Northern  Lights.  One  of  the  best  of  them, 
poor  Jack  Playfair,4  was  disposed?  "  to  shoot  madly  from  his  sphere,"5 
and,  I  believe,  asked  her,  but  he  was  a  little  too  old.  She  found  a 
fitter  husband  in  every  respect  in  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  to  whom  she 
gave  a  handsome  fortune,  and  whose  splendid  talents  and  situation  as 
President  of  the  Royal  Society  gave  her  naturally  a  distinguished 
place  in  the  literary  society  of  the  Metropolis.  Now  this  is  a  very 
curious  instance  of  an  active-minded  woman  forcing  her  way  to  the 
point  from  which  she  seemed  furthest  excluded.  For,  though  clever 
and  even  witty,  she  had  no  peculiar  accomplishment,  and  certainly  no 
good  taste  either  for  science  or  letters  naturally.  I  was  once  in  the 
Hebrides  with  her,  and  I  admired  to  observe  how  amidst  sea-sickness, 

1  Variation  from  2  Henry  IV.,  Act  n.  Sc.  4.  John,  third  Earl  of  Bute,  and  grand- daughter 

aSer'G,eeforKingCharles,»ira^y^-  ^^^^^n^alhScian  and  Natu- 

ew,  vol.  xi.  p.  4U— i.  G.  L.  ral  Philosopher.      Professor  Playfair  diedjn 

8  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  youngest  daughter  of  1819  in  his  seventy-second  year. 

Hare  yon  Been  the  famed  Bas  bleu,  the  gentle  dame  Apreece, 
Who  »t  a  glance  shot  through  and  through  the  Scots  Review, 

And  changed  its  swans  to  geese  t 

Playfair  forget  his  mathematics,  astronomy,  and  hydrostatics, 
And  in  her  presence  often  swore,  he  knew  not  two  and  two  made  four. 

[Squib  of  1811.] 

»  See  Midsummer  Wight's  Dream,  Act  u.  Sc.  2. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  69 

fatigue,  some  danger,  and  a  good  deal  of  indifference  as  to  what  she 
saw,  she  gallantly  maintained  her  determination  to  see  everything.1 
It  marked  her  strength  of  character,  and  she  joined  to  it  much  tact, 
and  always  addressed  people  on  the  right  side.  So  she  stands  high, 
and  deservedly  so,  for  to  these  active  qualities,  more  French  I  think 
than  English,  and  partaking  of  the  Creole  vivacity  and  suppleness  of 
character,  she  adds,  1  believe,  honourable  principles  and  an  excellent 
heart.  As  a  lion-catcher,  I  could  pit  her  against  the  world.  She  flung 
her  lasso  (see  Hall's  South  America)  over  Byron  himself.  But  then, 
poor  soul,  she  is  not  happy.  She  has  a  temper,  and  Davy  has  a  tem- 
per, and  these  tempers  are  not  one  temper,  but  two  tempers,  and  they 
quarrel  like  cat  and  dog,  which  may  be  good  for  stirring  up  the  stag- 
nation of  domestic  life,  but  they  let  the  world  see  it,  and  that  is  not 
so  well.  Now  in  all  this  I  may  be  thought  a  little  harsh  on  my  friend, 
but  it  is  between  my  Gurnal  and  me,  and,  moreover,  I  would  cry 
heartily  if  anything  were  to  ail  my  little  cousin,  though  she  be  ad- 
dicted to  rule  the  Cerulean  atmosphere.9  Then  I  suspect  the  cares 
of  this  as  well  as  other  empires  overbalance  its  pleasures.  There 
must  be  difficulty  in  being  always  in  the  right  humour  to  hold  a 
court.  There  are  usurpers  to  be  encountered,  and  insurrections  to  be 
put  down,  an  incessant  troop,  bienseances  to  be  discharged,  a  sort  of 
etiquette  which  is  the  curse  of  all  courts.  An  old  lion  cannot  get 
hamstrung  quietly  at  four  hundred  miles  distance,  but  the  Empress 
must  send  him  her  condolence  and  a  pot  of  lipsajve.  To  be  sure  the 
monster  is  consanguinean,  as  Sir  Toby  says.? 

Looked  in  at  Constable's  coming  home  ;  Cadell  emerged  from  Al- 
satia ;  borrowed  Clarendon.  Home  by  half-past  twelve. 

My  old  friend  Sir  Peter  Murray  Called  to  offer  his  own  assistance, 
Lord  Justice-Clerk's,  and  Ambercromby's,  to  negotiate  for  me  a  seat 
upon  the  Bench  [of  the  Court  of  Session]  instead  of  my  Sheriffdom 
and  Clerkship.  I  explained  to  him  the  use  which  I  could  make  of 
my  pen  was  not,  I  thought,  consistent  with  that  situation ;  and  that, 
besides,  I  had  neglected  the  law  too  long  to  permit  me  to  think  of  it ; 
but  this  was  kindly  and  honourably  done.  I  can  see  people  think  me 
much  worse  off  than  I  think  myself.  They  m#y  be  right ;  but  I  will 
not  be  beat  till  I  have  tried  a  rally,  and  a  bold  one. 

February  8. — Slept  ill,  and  rather  bilious  in  the  morning.  Many 
of  the  Bench  now  are  my  juniors.  I  will  not  seek  ex  eleemosynd  a 
place  which,  had  I  turned  my  studies  that  way,  I  might  have  aspired 
to  long  ago  ex  meritis.  My  pen  should  do  much  better  for  me  than 
the  odd  £1000  a  year.  If  it  fails,  I  will  lean  on  what  they  leave  me. 
Another  chance  might  be,  if  it  fails,  in  the  patronage  which  might, 
after  a  year  or  two,  place  me  in  Exchequer.  But  I  do  not  count  on 

1  This  journey  was  made  in  1810.— See  Life,  3  Twelfth  Night,  Act  n.  Sc.  3. 
Chapter  xxi.  vol.  iii.  p.  271. 

3  Lady  Davy  survived  her  distinguished  hus-  4  Sir  Patrick  Murray  of  Ochtertyre,  then  a 

band  for  more  than  a  quarterof  a  century;  she  baron  of  the  Court  of  Exchequer  in  Scotland; 

died  in  London,  May,  1855.  he  died  in  June,  1837. 


70  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

this  unless,  indeed,  the  D[uke]  of  B[uccleuch],  when  he  comes  of  age, 
should  choose  to  make  play. 

Got  to  my  work  again,  and  wrote  easier  than  the  two  last  days. 

Mr.  Laidlaw  J  came  in  from  Abbotsford  and  dined  with  us.  We 
spent  the  evening  in  laying  down  plans  for  the  farm,  and  deciding 
whom  we  should  keep  and  whom  dismiss  among  the  people.  This 
we  did  on  the  true  negro-driving  principle  of  self-interest,  the  only 
principle  I  know  which  never  swerves  from  its  objects.  We  choose 
all  the  active,  young,  and  powerful  men,  turning  old  age  and  infirmity 
adrift.  I  cannot  help  this,  for  a  guinea  cannot  do  the  work  of  five  ; 
but  I  will  contrive  to  make  it  easier  to  the  sufferers. 

February  9. — A  stormy  morning,  lowering  and  blustering,  like  our 
fortunes.  Mea  virtute  me  involvo.  But  I  must  say  to  the  Muse  of 
fiction,  as  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  said  to  the  ejected  nuns  of  Wil- 
ton, "  Go  spin,  you  jades,  go  spin  !"  Perhaps  she  has  no  tow  on  her 
rock?  When  I  was  at  Kilkenny  last  year  we  went  to  see  a  nunnery, 
but  could  not  converse  with  the  sisters  because  they  were  in  strict  re- 
treat. I  was  delighted  with  the  red-nosed  Padre,  who  showed  us  the 
place  with  a  sort  of  proud,  unctuous  humiliation,  and  apparent  dere- 
liction of  the  world,  that  had  to  me  the  air  of  a  complete  Tartuffe ;  a 
strong,  sanguine,  square-shouldered  son  of  the  Church,  whom  a  Prot- 
estant would  be  apt  to  warrant  against  any  sufferings  he  was  like  to 
sustain  by  privation.  My  purpose,  however,  just  now  was  to  talk  of 
the  "  strict  retreat,"  which  did  not  prevent  the  nuns  from  walking  in 
their  little  garden,  breviary  in  hand,  peeping  at  us,  and  allowing  us  to 
peep  at  them.  Well,  now,  we  are  in  strict  retreat ;  and  if  we  had  been 
so  last  year,  instead  of  gallivanting  to  Ireland,  this  affair  might  not 
have  befallen — if  literary  labour  could  have  prevented  it.  But  who 
could  have  suspected  Constable's  timbers  to  have  been  rotten  from 
the  beginning? 

Visited  the  Exhibition  on  my  way  home  from  the  Court.  The  new 
rooms  are  most  splendid,  and  several  good  pictures.  The  Institution 
has  subsisted  but  five  years,  and  it  is  astonishing  how  much  superior 
the  worst  of  the  present  collection  are  to  the  teaboard-looking  things 
which  first  appeared.  John  Thomson,  of  Duddingston,  has  far  the 
finest  picture  in  the  Exhibition,  of  a  large  size  —  subject  Dunluce,  a 
ruinous  castle  of  the  Antrim  family,  near  the  Giant's  Causeway,  with 
one  of  those  terrible  seas  and  skies  which  only  Thomson  can  paint. 
Found  Scrope  there  improving  a  picture  of  his  own,  an  Italian  scene 


1  This  cherished  and  confidential  friend  had  from  Scott's  observation,  years  after  this  pe- 

been  living  at  Kaeside  from  1817,  and  acting  as  riod   [1792],  of  a  family,  with  one  of  whose 

steward  on  the  estate.     Mr.  Laidlaw  died  in  members  he  had,  through  the  best  part  of  his 

Ross-shire  in  1845.  life,  a  close  and  affectionate  connection.     To 

Mr.  Lockhart  says,  "I  have  the  best  reason  those  who  were  familiar  with  him,  I  have  per- 

to  believe  that  the  kind  and  manly  character  haps  already  sufficiently  indicated  the  early 

of  Dandle  [Dinmont  in  Guy  Mannering],  the  home  of  his  dear  friend,  William  Laidlaw." 

gentle  and  delicious  one  of  his  wife,  and  some  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  268.    See  also  vol.  ii.  p.  59;  v.  pp, 

at  least  of  the  most  picturesque  peculiarities  210-15,  251;  vii.  p.  168;  viii.  p.  68,  etc. 

of  the  menage  at  Charlieshope  were  filled  up  a  Flax  on  her  distaff. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  71 

in  Calabria.  He  is,  I  think,  greatly  improved,  and  one  of  the  very 
best  amateur  painters  I  ever  saw — Sir  George  Beaumont  scarcely  ex- 
cepted.  Yet,  hang  it,  /  do  except  Sir  George. 

I  would  not  write  to-day  after  I  came  home.  I  will  not  say  could 
not,  for  it  is  not  true  ;  but  I  was  lazy ;  felt  the  desire  far  niente,  which 
is  the  sign  of  one's  mind  being  at  ease.  I  read  The  English  in  Italy,1 
which  is  a  clever  book.  Byron  used  to  kick  and  frisk  more  contempt- 
uously against  the  literary  gravity  and  slang  than  any  one  I  ever  knew 
who  had  climbed  so  high.  Then,  it  is  true,  I  never  knew  any  one 
climb  so  high  ;  and  before  you  despise  the  eminence,  carrying  people 
along  with  you,  as  convinced  that  you  are  not  playing  the  fox  and  the 
grapes,you  must  be  at  the  top.  Moore  told  me  some  delightful  stories 
of  him.  One  was  that  while  they  stood  at  the  window  of  Byron's 
Palazzo  in  Venice,  looking  at  a  beautiful  sunset,  Moore  was  naturally 
led  to  say  something  of  its  beauty,  when  Byron  answered  in  a  tone 
that  I  can  easily  conceive,  "  Oh  !  come,  d — n  me,  Tom,  don't  be  poeti- 
cal." Another  time,  standing  with  Moore  on  the  balcony  of  the  same 
Palazzo,  a  gondola  passed  with  two  English  gentlemen,  who  were  easi- 
ly distinguished  by  their  appearance.  They  cast  a  careless  look  at 
the  balcony  and  went  on.  Byron  crossed  his  arms,  and  half  stooping 
over  the  balcony  said,  "  Ah  !  d — n  ye,  if  ye  had  known  what  two  fel- 
lows you  were  staring  at,  you  would  have  taken  a  longer  look  at  us." 
This  was  the  man,  quaint,  capricious,  and  playful, with  all  his  immense 
genius.  He  wrote  from  impulse,  never  from  effort ;  and  therefore  I 
have  always  reckoned  Burns  and  Byron  the  most  genuine  poetical 
geniuses  of  my  time,  and  half  a  century  before  me.  We  have,  how- 
ever, many  men  of  high  poetical  talent,  but  none,  I  think,  of  that 
ever-gushing  and  perennial  fountain  of  natural  water. 

Mr.  Laidlaw  dined  with  us.  Says  Mr.  Gibson  told  him  he  would 
dispose  of  my  affairs,  were  it  any  but  S.  W.  S.a  No  doubt,  so  should 
I,  and  am  wellnigh  doing  so  at  any  rate.  T$ut,fortunajuvantef  much 
may  be  achieved.  At  worst,  the  prospect  is  not  very  discouraging  to 
one  who  wants  little.  Methinks  I  have  been  like  Burns's  poor  la- 
bourer. 

"  So  constantly  in  Ruin's  sight, 
The  view  o't  gives  me  little  fright." 

[Edinburgh,]  February  1 0. — Went  through,  for  a  new  day,  the  task 
of  buttoning,  which  seems  to  me  somehow  to  fill  up  more  of  my  morn- 
ing than  usual — not,  certainly,  that  such  is  really  the  case,  but  that  my 
mind  attends  to  the  process,  having  so  little  left  to  hope  or  fear.  The 
half  hour  between  waking  and  rising  has  all  my  life  proved  propitious 

>  The  English  in  Italy.  3  vols. ,  Lond.  1825,  who,  in  his  joy  on  hearing  of  the  baronetcy, 

ascribed  to  the  Marquis  of  Normanby.  proceeded  to  mark  every  sheep  on  the  estate 

4  "S.  W.  S. "  Scott,  in  writing  of  himself,  with  a  large  letter  "S"  in  addition  to  the  own- 
often  uses  these  three  letters  in  playful  allusion  er's  initials,  W.  S.,  which,  according  to  custom, 
to  a  freak  of  his  trusty  henchman  Tom  Purdie,  had  already  been  stamped  on  their  backs. 


72  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

to  any  task  which  was  exercising  my  invention.1  When  I  get  over 
any  knotty  difficulty  in  a  story,  or  have  had  in  former  times  to  fill  up 
a  passage  in  a  poem,  it  was  always  when  I  first  opened  my  eyes  that 
the  desired  ideas  thronged  upon  inc.  This  is  so  much  the  case  that 
I  am  in  the  habit  of  relying  upon  it,  and  saying  to  myself,  when  I  am 
at  a  loss,  "  Never  mind,  we  shall  have  it  at  seven  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning."  If  I  have  forgot  a  circumstance,  or  a  name,  or  a  copy  of 
verses,  it  is  the  same  thing.  There  is  a  passage  about  this  sort  of 
matutinal  inspiration  in  the  Odyssey,2  which  would  make  a  handsome 
figure  here  if  I  could  read  or  write  Greek.  I  will  look  into  Pope  for 
it,  who,  ten  to  one,  will  not  tell  me  the  real  translation.  I  think  the 
first  hour  of  the  morning  is  also  favourable  to  the  bodily  strength. 
Among  other  feats,  when  I  was  a  young  man,  I  was  able  at  times  to 
lift  a  smith's  anvil  with  one  hand,  by  what  is  called  the  Aorn,  or  pro- 
jecting piece  of  iron  on  which  things  are  beaten  to  turn  them  round. 
But  I  could  only  do  this  before  breakfast,  and  shortly  after  rising.  It 
required  my  full  strength,  undiminished  by  the  least  exertion,  and 
those  who  choose  to  try  it  will  find  the  feat  no  easy  one.  This  morn- 
ing I  had  some  good  ideas  respecting  Woodstock  which  will  make  the 
story  better.  The  devil  of  a  difficulty  is,  that  one  puzzles  the  skein 
in  order  to  excite  curiosity,  and  then  cannot  disentangle  it  for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  prying  fiend  they  have  raised.  A  letter  from  Sir 
James  Mackintosh  of  condolence,  prettily  expressed,  and  which  may 
be  sung  to  the  old  tune  of  "  Welcome,  welcome,  brother  Debtor."  A 
brother  son  of  chivalry  dismounted  by  mischance  is  sure  to  excite  the 
compassion  of  one  laid  on  the  arena  before  him. 

Yesterday  I  had  an  anecdote  from  old  Sir  James  Steuart  Denham,1 
which  is  worth  writing  down.  His  uncle,  Lord  Elcho,  was,  as  is  well 
known,  engaged  in  the  affair  of  1745.  He  was  dissatisfied  with  the 
conduct  of  matters  from  beginning  to  end.  But  after  the  left  wing 
of  the  Highlanders  was  repulsed  and  broken  at  Culloden,  Elcho  rode 
up  to  the  Chevalier  and  told  him  all  was  lost,  and  that  nothing  re- 
mained except  to  charge  at  the  head  of  two  thousand  men,  who  were 

i  Moore  also  felt  that  the  morning  was  his  that  the  vision  occurred  just  before  dawn;  1. 

happiest  time  for  work,  but  he  preferred  "  com-  48-49,  CN/T/KU  3'  'H«>r  nhttev, '  straightway  came 

posing"  in  bed!    He  says  somewhere  that  he  the  Dawn,'  etc.     In  the  latter,  there  is  no  spe- 

would  have  passed  half  his  days  in  bed  for  the  cial  mention  of  the  hour.   The  vision,  however, 

purpose  of  composition  had  he  not  found  it  too  is  said  to  be  not  a  dream,  but  a  true  vision 

relaxing.  which  shall  be  accomplished  (547,  OUK  ovap  <iAV 

s  Macaulay,  too,  when  engaged  in  his  His-  virap  foO\ov,  a  TOI  TeTt\fa>jLevov  farat). 
tory.  was  in  the  habit  of  writing  three  hours  be-          "  Such  passages  as  these,  which  are  frequent 

fore  breakfast  daily.  in  Greek  literature,  might  easily  have  given 

8  I  am  assured  by  Professor  Butcher  that  rise  to  the  notion  of  a  'matutinal  inspiration,' 

there  is  no  such  passage  in  the  Odyssey,  but  he  of  which  Scott  speaks. " 
suggests  "that  what  Scott  had  in  his  mind  was         'General   Sir  James  Steuart   Denham   of 

merely  the  Greek  idea  of  a  waking  vision  being  Coltness,  Baronet,  Colonel  of  the  Scots  Greys, 

a  true  one.  They  spoke  of  it  as  a  vir<tp  opposed  His  father,  the  celebrated  political  economist, 

to  an  6Vap,  a  mere  dream.    These  waking  vis-  took  part  in  the  Rebellion  of  1745,  and  was  long 

ions  are  usually  said  to  be  seen  towards  morn-  afterwards  an  exile.    The  reader  is  no  doubt 

ing.  acquainted  with  "Lady  Mary  Wortley  Monta 

"In  the  Odyssey  there  are  two  such  visions  gu's  Letters"  addressed  to  him  and  his  wife, 

which  turn  out  to  be  realities: — that  of  Nausi-  Lady  Frances. — J.  G.  L.     See  also  Mrs.  Calder- 

caa,  Bk.  vi.  20,  etc.,  and  that  of  Penelope,  Bk.  wood's  Letters,  8vo.    Edin.  1884.    Sir  James 

xix.  535,  etc.    In  the  former  case  we  are  told  died  in  1839. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  73 

still  unbroken,  and  either  turn  the  fate  of  the  day  or  die  sword  in 
hand,  as  became  his  pretensions.  The  Chevalier  gave  him  some  eva- 
sive answer,  and,  turning  his  horse's  head,  rode  off  the  field.  Lord 
Elcho  called  after  him  (I  write  the  very  words),  "  There  you  go  for  a 
damned  cowardly  Italian,"  and  never  would  see  him  again,  though  he 
lost  his  property  and  remained  an  exile  in  the  cause.  Lord  Elcho  left 
two  copies  of  his  memoirs,  one  with  Sir  James  Steuart's  family,  one 
with  Lord  Wemyss.  This  is  better  evidence  than  the  romance  of  Chev- 
alier Johnstone  ;  and  I  have  little  doubt  it  is  true.  Yet  it  is  no  proof 
of  the  Prince's  cowardice,  though  it  shows  him  to  have  been  no  John 
of  Gaunt.  Princes  are  constantly  surrounded  with  people  who  hold 
up  their  own  life  and  safety  to  them  as  by  far  the  most  important 
stake  in  any  contest ;  and  this  is  a  doctrine  in  which  conviction  is 
easily  received.  Such  an  eminent  person  finds  everybody's  advice, 
save  here  and  there  that  of  a  desperate  Elcho,  recommend  obedience 
to  the  natural  instinct  of  self-preservation,  which  very  often  men  of 
inferior  situations  find  it  difficult  to  combat,  when  all  the  world  are 
crying  to  them  to  get  on  and  be  damned,  instead  of  encouraging  them 
to  run  away.  At  Prestonpans  the  Chevalier  offered  to  lead  the  van, 
and  he  was  with  the  second  line,  which,  during  that  brief  affair,  fol- 
lowed the  first  very  close.  Johnstone's  own  account,  carefully  read, 
brings  him  within  a  pistol-shot  of  the  first  line.  At  the  same  time, 
Charles  Edward  had  not  a  head  or  heart  for  great  things,  notwith- 
standing his  daring  adventure ;  and  the  Irish  officers,  by  whom  he 
was  guided,  were  poor  creatures.  Lord  George  Murray  was  the  soul 
of  the  undertaking.1 

February  11. — Court  sat  till  half-past  one.  I  had  but  a  trifle  to  do, 
so  wrote  letters  to  Mrs.  Maclean  Clephane  and  nephew  Walter.  Sent 
the  last,  £40  in  addition  to  £240  sent  on  the  6th,  making  his  full 
equipment  £280.  A  man,  calling  himself  Charles  Gray  of  Carse, 
wrote  to  me,  expressing  sympathy  for  my  misfortunes,  and  offering 
me  half  the  profits  of  what,  if  I  understand  him  right,  is  a  patent 
medicine,  to  which  I  suppose  he  expects  me  to  stand  trumpeter.  He 
endeavours  to  get  over  my  objections  to  accepting  his  liberality  (sup- 
posing me  to  entertain  them)  by  assuring  me  his  conduct  is  founded 
on  a  sage  selfishness.  This  is  diverting  enough.  I  suppose  the  Com- 
missioners of  Police  will  next  send  me  a  letter  of  condolence,  begging 
my  acceptance  of  a  broom,  a  shovel,  and  a  scavenger's  greatcoat, 
and  assuring  me  that  they  had  appointed  me  to  all  the  emoluments 
of  a  well-frequented  crossing.  It  would  be  doing  more  than  they 
have  done  of  late  for  the  cleanliness  of  the  streets,  which,  witness  my 
shoes,  are  in  a  piteous  pickle.  I  thanked  the  selfish  sage  with  due 
decorum — for  what  purpose  can  anger  serve  ?  I  remember  once  be- 

i  "Had  Prince  Charles  slept  during  the  whole  is  every  reason  for  supposing  he  would  have 

of  the  expedition,"  says  the  Chevalier  John-  found  the  crown  of  Great  Britain  on  his  head 

stone, "  and  allowed  Lord  George  Murray  to  act  when  he  awoke. " — Memoirs  of  the  Rebellion  of 

for  him  according  to  his  own  judgment,  there  1745,  etc.    4to,  p.  140.    London,  1810.— J.  u.  L. 


74  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

fore,  a  mad  woman,  from  about  Alnwick,  baited  me  with  letters  and 
plans — first  for  charity  to  herself  or  some  protege.  I  gave  my  guinea. 
Then  she  wanted  to  have  half  the  profit  of  a  novel  which  I  was  to 
publish  under  my  name  and  auspices.  She  sent  me  the  manuscript, 
and  a  moving  tale  it  was,  for  some  of  the  scenes  lay  in  the  cabinet  a 
Veau.  I  declined  the  partnership.  Lastly,  my  fair  correspondent  in- 
sisted I  was  a  lover  of  speculation,  and  would  be  much  profited  by  go- 
ing shares  in  a  patent  medicine  which  she  had  invented  for  the  bene- 
fit of  little  babies,  I  believe.  I  dreaded  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
such  a  Herod-like  affair,  and  begged  to  decline  the  honour  of  her  cor- 
respondence in  future.  I  should  have  thought  the  thing  a  quiz,  but 
that  the  novel  was  real  and  substantial.  Anne  goes  to  Ravelston  to- 
day to  remain  to-morrow.  Sir  Alexander  Don  called,  and  we  had  a 
good  laugh  together. 

February  12. — Having  ended  the  second  volume  of  Woodstock 
last  night,  I  have  to  begin  the  third  this  morning.  Now  I  have  not 
the  slightest  idea  how  the  story  is  to  be  wound  up  to  a  catastrophe. 
I  am  just  in  the  same  case  as  I  used  to  be  when  I  lost  myself  in  for- 
mer days  in  some  country  to  which  I  was  a  stranger.  I  always  push- 
ed for  the  pleasantest  road,  and  either  found  or  made  it  the  nearest. 
It  is  the  same  in  writing,  I  never  could  lay  down  a  plan — or,  having 
laid  it  down,  I  never  could  adhere  to  it;  the  action  of  composition 
always  diluted  some  passages,  and  abridged  or  omitted  others ;  and 
personages  were  rendered  important  or  insignificant,  not  according 
to  their  agency  in  the  original  conception  of  the  plan,  but  according 
to  the  success,  or  otherwise,  with  which  I  was  able  to  bring  them  out. 
I  only  tried  to  make  that  which  I  was  actually  writing  diverting  and 
interesting,  leaving  the  rest  to  fate.  I  have  been  often  amused  with 
the  critics  distinguishing  some  passages  as  particularly  labored,  when 
the  pen  passed  over  the  whole  as  fast  as  it  could  move,  and  the  eye 
never  again  saw  them,  except  in  proof.  Verse  I  write  twice,  and 
sometimes  three  times  over.  This  may  be  called  in  Spanish  the  Dar 
donde  diere  mode  of  composition,  in  English  hab  nab  at  a  venture ;  it  is 
a  perilous  style,  I  grant,  but  I  cannot  help  it.  '  When  I  chain  my 
mind  to  ideas  which  are  purely  imaginative — for  argument  is  a  dif- 
ferent thing — it  seems  to  me  that  the  sun  leaves  the  landscape,  that 
I  think  away  the  whole  vivacity  and  spirit  of  my  original  concep- 
tion, and  that  the  results  are  cold,  tame,  and  spiritless.  It  is  the 
difference  between  a  written  oration  and  one  bursting  from  the  un- 
premeditated exertions  of  the  speaker,  which  have  always  something 
the  air  of  enthusiasm  and  inspiration.  I  would  not  have  young 
authors  imitate  my  carelessness,  however ;  consilium  non  currum 
cape. 

Read  a  few  pages  of  Will  D'Avenant,  who  was  fond  of  having  it 
supposed  that  Shakespeare  intrigued  with  his  mother.  I  think  the 
pretension  can  only  be  treated  as  Phaeton's  was,  according  to  Field- 
ing's farce — 


1826.J  JOURNAL  75 

"  Besides,  by  all  the  village  boys  I'm  shamed, 
You,  the  sun's  son,  you  rascal  ? — you  be  danm'd." 

Egad — I'll  put  that  into  Woodstock.1  It  might  come  well  from  the 
old  admirer  of  Shakespeare.  Then  Fielding's  lines  were  not  written. 
What  then  ? — it  is  an  anachronism  for  some  sly  rogue  to  detect.  Be- 
sides, it  is  easy  to  swear  they  were  written,  and  that  Fielding  adopted 
them  from  tradition.  Walked  with  Skene  on  the  Calton  Hill. 

February  1 3. — The  Institution  for  the  Encouragement  of  the  Fine 
Arts  opens  to-day,  with  a  handsome  entertainment  in  the  Exhibition- 
room,  as  at  Somerset  House.  It  strikes  me  that  the  direction  given 
by  amateurs  and  professors  to  their  proteges  and  pupils,  who  aspire 
to  be  artists,  is  upon  a  pedantic  and  false  principle.  All  the  Fine 
Arts  have  it  for  their  highest  and  more  legitimate  end  and  purpose, 
to  affect  the  human  passions,  or  smooth  and  alleviate  for  a  time  the 
more  unquiet  feelings  of  the  mind — to  excite  wonder,  or  terror,  or 
pleasure,  or  emotion  of  some  kind  or  other.  It  often  happens  that, 
in  the  very  rise  and  origin  of  these  arts,  as  in  the  instance  of  Homer, 
the  principal  object  is  obtained  in  a  degree  not  equalled  by  his  suc- 
cessors. But  there  is  a  degree  of  execution  which,  in  more  refined 
times,  the  poet  or  musician  begins  to  study,  which  gives  a  value  of 
its  own  to  their  productions  of  a  different  kind  from  the  rude  strength 
of  their  predecessors.  Poetry  becomes  complicated  in  its  rules — 
music  learned  in  its  cadences  and  harmonies — rhetoric  subtle  in  its 
periods.  There  is  more  given  to  the  labour  of  executing — less  attain- 
ed by  the  effect  produced.  Still  the  nobler  and  popular  end  of  these 
arts  is  not  forgotten ;  and  if  we  have  some  productions  too  learned, 
too  recherches  for  public  feeling,  we  have,  every  now  and  then,  music 
that  electrifies  a  whole  assembly,  eloquence  which  shakes  the  forum, 
and  poetry  which  carries  men  up  to  the  third  heaven.  But  in  paint- 
ing it  is  different ;  it  is  all  become  a  mystery,  the  secret  of  which  is 
lodged  in  a  few  connoisseurs,  whose  object  is  not  to  praise  the  works  of 
such  painters  as  produce  effect  on  mankind  at  large,  but  to  class  them 
according  to  their  proficiency  in  the  inferior  rules  of  the  art,  which, 
though  most  necessary  to  be  taught  and  learned,  should  yet  only  be 
considered  as  the  Gradus  ad  Parnassum — the  steps  by  which  the 
higher  and  ultimate  object  of  a  great  popular  effect  is  to  be  attained. 
They  have  all  embraced  the  very  style  of  criticism  which  induced 
Michael  Angelo  to  call  some  Pope  a  poor  creature,  when,  turning  his 
attention  from  the  general  effect  of  a  noble  statue,  his  Holiness  began 
to  criticise  the  hem  of  the  robe.  This  seems  to  me  the  cause  of  the 
decay  of  this  delightful  art,  especially  in  history,  its  noblest  branch. 
As  I  speak  to  myself,  I  may  say  that  a  painting  should,  to  be  excel- 

i  The  lines  are  given  in  Woodstock,  with  the  in  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth,  it  must  have 

following  apology:  "We  observe  this  couplet  in  reached  the  author  of  Tom  Jones  by  tradition, 

Fielding's  farce  of  Tumbledown  Dick,  founded  for  no  one  will  suspect  the  present  author  of 

on  the  same  classical  story.    As  it  was  current  making  the  anachronism. " 


Y6  JOURNAL  [FKB. 

lent,  have  something  to  say  to  the  mind  of  a  man,  like  myself,  well- 
educated,  and  susceptible  of  those  feelings  which  anything  strongly 
recalling  natural  emotion  is  likely  to  inspire.  But  how  seldom  do  I 
see  anything  that  moves  me  much  !  Wilkie,  the  far  more  than  Ten- 
iers  of  Scotland,  certainly  gave  many  new  ideas.  So  does  Will  Allan, 
though  overwhelmed  with  their  rebukes  about  colouring  and  group- 
ing, against  which  they  are  not  willing  to  place  his  general  and  orig- 
inal merits.  Landseer's  dogs  were  the  most  magnificent  things  I  ever 
saw — leaping,  and  bounding,  and  grinning  on  the  canvas.  Leslie  has 
great  powers ;  and  the  scenes  from  Moliere  by  [Newton]  are  excellent. 
Yet  painting  wants  a  regenerator — some  one  who  will  sweep  the  cob- 
webs out  of  his  head  before  he  takes  the  palette,  as  Chantrey  has 
done  in  the  sister  art.  At  present  we  are  painting  pictures  from  the 
ancients,  as  authors  in  the  days  of  Louis  Quatorze  wrote  epic  poems 
according  to  the  recipe  of  Madame  Dacier  and  Co.  The  poor  reader 
or  spectator  has  no  remedy ;  the  compositions  are  secundum  artem, 
and  if  he  does  not  like  them,  he  is  no  judge — that's  all. 

February  14. — I  had  a  call  from  Glengarry1  yesterday,  as  kind 
and  friendly  as  usual.  This  gentleman  is  a  kind  of  Quixote  in  our 
age,  having  retained,  in  their  full  extent,  the  whole  feelings  of  clan- 
ship and  chieftainship,  elsewhere  so  long  abandoned.  He  seems  to 
have  lived  a  century  too  late,  and  to  exist,  in  a  state  of  complete  law 
and  order,  like  a  Glengarry  of  old,  whose  will  was  law  to  his  sept. 
Warm-hearted,  generous,  friendly,  he  is  beloved  by  those  who  know 
him,  and  his  efforts  are  unceasing  to  show  kindness  to  those  of  his 
clan  who  are  disposed  fully  to  admit  his  pretensions.  To  dispute 
them  is  to  incur  his  resentment,  which  has  sometimes  broken  out  in 
acts  of  violence  which  have  brought  him  into  collision  with  the  law. 
To  me  he  is  a  treasure,  as  being  full  of  information  as  to  the  history 
of  his  own  clan,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Highlanders  in 
general.  Strong,  active,  and  muscular,  he  follows  the  chase  of  the 
deer  for  days  and  nights  together,  sleeping  in  his  plaid  when  dark- 
ness overtakes  him  in  the  forest.  He  was  fortunate  in  marrying  a 
daughter  of  Sir  William  Forbes,  who,  by  yielding  to  his  peculiar 
ideas  in  general,  possesses  much  deserved  influence  with  him.  The 
number  of  his  singular  exploits  would  fill  a  volume ; "  for,  as  his  pre- 
tensions are  high,  and  not  always  willingly  yielded  to,  he  is  every 
now  and  then  giving  rise  to  some  rumour.  He  is,  on  many  of  these 
occasions,  as  much  sinned  against  as  sinning;  for  men,  knowing  his 
temper,  sometimes  provoke  him,  conscious  that  Glengarry,  from  his 
character  for  violence,  will  always  be  put  in  the  wrong  by  the  public. 
I  have  seen  him  behave  in  a  very  manly  manner  when  thus  tempted. 
He  has  of  late  prosecuted  a  quarrel,  ridiculous  enough  in  the  present 

1  Colonel  Ranaldson  Macdonell  of  Glengarry,  the  interior  of  a  convent  in  the  ancient  High- 
He  died  in  January,  1H28. — j  G.  L.  land  garb,  and  the  effect  of  such  an  apparition 

8  "We  have  had  Mari-chal  Macdonald  here.  on  the  nuns,  who  fled  in  all  directions." — Scott 

We  had  a  capital  account  of  Glengarry  visiting  to  Skene,  Edinburgh,  24th  June,  1825. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  77 

day,  to  have  himself  admitted  and  recognised  as  Chief  of  the  whole 
Clan  Ranald,  or  surname  of  Macdonald.  The  truth  seems  to  be,  that 
the  present  Clanranald  is  not  descended  from  a  legitimate  Chieftain 
of  the  tribe ;  for,  having  accomplished  a  revolution  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  they  adopted  a  Tanist,  or  Captain — that  is,  a  Chief  not  in 
the  direct  line  of  succession,  a  certain  Ian  Moidart,  or  John  of  Moi- 
dart,  who  took  the  title  of  Captain  of  Clanranald,  with  all  the  powers 
of  Chief,  and  even  Glengarry's  ancestor  recognized  them  as  chiefs  de 
facto  if  not  de  jure.  The  fact  is,  that  this  elective  power  was,  in 
cases  of  insanity,  imbecility,  or  the  like,  exercised  by  the  Celtic  tribes  ; 
and  though  Ian  Moidart  was  no  chief  by  birth,  yet  by  election  he 
became  so,  and  transmitted  his  power  to  his  descendants,  as  would 
King  William  in.,  if  he  had  had  any.  So  it  is  absurd  to  set  up  the 
jus  sanguinis  now,  which  Glengarry's  ancestors  did  not,  or  could  not, 
make  good,  when  it  was  a  right  worth  combating  for.  I  wrought 
out  my  full  task  yesterday. 

Saw  Cadell  as  I  returned  from  the  Court.  He  seems  dejected, 
apprehensive  of.  another  trustee  being  preferred  to  Cowan,  and  gloomy 
about  the  extent  of  stock  of  novels,  etc.,  on  hand.  He  infected  me 
with  his  want  of  spirits,  and  I  almost  wish  my  wife  had  not  asked 
Mr.  Scrope  and  Charles  K.  Sharpe  for  this  day.  But  the  former  sent  * 
such  loads  of  game  that  Lady  Scott's  gratitude  became  ungovernable. 
I  have  not  seen  a  creature  at  dinner  since  the  direful  17th  January, 
except  my  own  family  and  Mr.  Laidlaw.  The  love  of  solitude  in- 
creases by  indulgence ;  I  hope  it  will  not  diverge  into  misanthropy. 
It  does  not  mend  the  matter  that  this  is  the  first  day  that  a  ticket 
for  sale  is  on  my  house.  Poor  No.  39.1  One  gets  accustomed  even 
to  stone  walls,  and  the  place  suited  me  very  well.  All  our  furniture, 
too,  is  to  go — a  hundred  little  articles  that  seemed  to  me  connected 
with  all  the  happier  years  of  my  life.  It  is  a  sorry  business.  But 
sursum  cor  da. 

My  two  friends  came  as  expected,  also  Missie,  and  stayed  till 
half-past  ten.  Promised  Sharpe  the  set  of  Piranesi's  views  in  the 
dining-parlour.  They  belonged  to  my  uncle,  so  I  do  not  like  to  sell 
them.2 

February  15. — Yesterday  I  did  not  write  a  line  of  Woodstock. 
Partly,  I  was  a  little  out  of  spirits,  though  that  would  not  have 
hindered.  Partly,  I  wanted  to  wait  for  some  new  ideas — a  sort  of 
collecting  of  straw  to  make  bricks  of.  Partly,  I  was  a  little  too  far 
beyond  the  press.  I  cannot  pull  well  in  long  traces,  when  the  draught 
is  too  far  behind  me.  I  love  to  have  the  press  thumping,  clattering, 
and  banging  in  my  rear ;  it  creates  the  necessity  which  almost  always 
makes  me  work  best.  Needs  must  when  the  devil  drives — and  drive 

i  No.  39  Castle  Street,  which  had  been  occu-  within  a  circle  ot  a  few  hundred  yards.     For 

pied  by  him  from  1802,  when  he  removed  from  description  see  Life,  vol.  v.  pp.  321,  333-4,  etc. 
No.  10  iu  the  same  street.    The  situation  suited 

him,  as  the  houses  of  nearly  all  his  friends  were  2  See  below,  March  12. 


78  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

he  does  even  according  to  the  letter.  I  must  work  to-day,  however. 
Attended  a  meeting  of  the  Faculty  about  our  new  library.  I  spoke 
— saying  that  I  hoped  we  would  now  at  length  act  upon  a  general 
plan,  and  look  forward  to  commencing  upon  such  a  scale  as  would 
secure  us  at  least  for  a  century  against  the  petty  and  partial  manage- 
ment, which  we  have  hitherto  thought  sufficient,  of  fitting  up  one 
room  after  another.  Disconnected  and  distant,  these  have  been  cost- 
ing large  sums  of  money  from  time  to  time,  all  now  thrown  away. 
We  are  now  to  have  space  enough  for  a  very  large  range  of  build- 
ings, which  we  may  execute  in  a  simple  taste,  leaving  Government  to 
ornament  them  if  they  shall  think  proper  —  otherwise,  to  be  plain, 
modest,  and  handsome,  and  capable  of  being  executed  by  degrees, 
and  in  such  portions  as  convenience  may  admit  of. 

Poor  James  Hogg,  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  came  to  advise  with  me 
about  his  affairs, — he  is  sinking  under  the  times ;  having  no  assist- 
ance to  give  him,  my  advice,  I  fear,  will  be  of  little  service.  I  am 
sorry  for  him  if  that  would  help  him,  especially  as,  by  his  own  ac- 
count, a  couple  of  hundred  pounds  would  carry  him  on. 

February  16. — "Misfortune's  gowling  bark"1  comes  louder  and 
louder.  By  assigning  my  whole  property  to  trustees  for  behoof  of 
creditors,  with  two  works  in  progress  and  nigh  publication,  and  with 
all  my  future  literary  labours,  I  conceived  I  was  bringing  into  the 
field  a  large  fund  of  payment,  which  could  not  exist  without  my  exer- 
tions, and  that  thus  far  I  was  entitled  to  a  corresponding  degree  of 
indulgence.  I  therefore  supposed,  on  selling  this  house,  and  various 
other  property,  and  on  receiving  the  price  of  Woodstock  and  Napo- 
leon, that  they  would  give  me  leisure  to  make  other  exertions,  and  be 
content  with  the  rents  of  Abbotsford,  without  attempting  a  sale.  This 
would  have  been  the  more  reasonable,  as  the  very  printing  of  these 
works  must  amount  to  a  large  sum,  of  which  they  will  reap  the  prof- 
its. In  the  course  of  this  delay  I  supposed  I  was  to  have  the  chance 
of  getting  some  insight  both  into  Constable's  affairs  and  those  of 
Hurst  and  Robinson.  Nay,  employing  these  houses,  under  precau- 
tions, to  sell  the  works,  the  publisher's  profit  would  have  come  in  to 
pay  part  of  their  debts.  But  Gibson  last  night  came  in  after  dinner, 
and  gave  me  to  understand  that  the  Bank  of  Scotland  see  this  in  a 
different  point  of  view,  and  consider  my  contribution  of  the  produce 
of  past,  present,  and  future  labours,  as  compensated  in  full  by  their 
accepting  of  the  trust-deed,  instead  of  pursuing  the  mode  of  seques- 
tration, and  placing  me  in  the  Gazette.  They  therefore  expected  the 
trustees  instantly  to  commence  a  law-suit  to  reduce  the  marriage  set- 
tlement, which  settles  the  estate  upon  Walter,  thus  loading  me  with 
a  most  expensive  suit,  and,  I  suppose,  selling  library  and  whatever 
they  can  lay  hold  on. 

»  Burns's  Dedication  to  Gavin  Hamilton— 

"  May  ne'er  misfortune's  Rowling  bark 
Howl  through  the  dwelling  o'  the  Clerk." 


1826.]  JOURNAL  79 

Now  this  seems  unequal  measure,  and  would  besides  of  itself  to- 
tally destroy  any  power  of  fancy  or  genius,  if  it  deserves  the  name, 
which  may  remain  to  me.  A  man  cannot  write  in  the  House  of  Cor- 
rection ;  and  this  species  of  peine  forte  et  dure  which  is  threatened 
would  render  it  impossible  for  one  to  help  himself  or  others.  So  I 
told  Gibson  I  had  my  mind  made  up  as  far  back  as  the  24th  of 
January,  not  to  suffer  myself  to  be  harder  pressed  than  law  would 
press  me.  If  this  great  commercial  company,  through  whose  hands 
I  have  directed  so  many  thousands,  think  they  are  right  in  taking 
every  advantage  and  giving  none,  it  must  be  my  care  to  see  that  they 
take  none  but  what  law  gives  them.  If  they  take  the  sword  of  the 
law,  I  must  lay  hold  of  the  shield.  If  they  are  determined  to  con- 
sider me  as  an  irretrievable  bankrupt,  they  have  no  title  to  object  to 
my  settling  upon  the  usual  terms  which  the  Statute  requires.  They 
probably  are  of  opinion  that  I  will  be  ashamed  to  do  this  by  apply- 
ing publicly  for  a  sequestration.  Now,  my  feelings  are  different.  I 
am  ashamed  to  owe  debts  I  cannot  pay ;  but  I  am  not  ashamed  of 
being  classed  with  those  to  whose  rank  I  belong.  The  disgrace  is  in 
being  an  actual  bankrupt,  not  in  being  made  a  legal  one.  I  had  like 
to  have  been  too  hasty  in  this  matter.  I  must  have  a  clear  under- 
standing that  I  am  to  be  benefited  or  indulged  in  some  way,  if  I  bring 
in  two  such  funds  as  those  works  in  progress,  worth  certainly  from 
£10,000  to  £15,000. 

Clerk  came  in  last  night  and  drank  wine  and  water. 

Slept  ill,  and  bilious  in  the  morning.  N.B. — I  smoked  a  cigar, 
the  first  for  this  present  year,  yesterday  evening. 

February  1 7. — Slept  sound,  for  Nature  repays  herself  for  the  vex- 
ation the  mind  sometimes  gives  her.  This  morning  put  interlocutors 
on  several  Sheriff-Court  processes  from  Selkirkshire.  Gibson  came 
to-night  to  say  that  he  had  spoken  at  full  length  with  Alexander 
Monypenny,  proposed  as  trustee  on  the  part  of  the  Bank  of  Scot- 
land, and  found  him  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  most  moderate  meas- 
ures, and  taking  burthen  on  himself  for  the  Bank  of  Scotland  pro- 
ceeding with  such  lenity  as  might  enable  me  to  have  some  time  and 
opportunity  to  clear  these  affairs  out.  I  repose  trust  in  Mr.  M.  en- 
tirely. His  father,  old  Colonel  Monypenny,  was  my  early  friend, 
kind  and  hospitable  to  me  when  I  was  a  mere  boy.  He  had  much 
of  old  Withers  about  him,  as  expressed  in  Pope's  epitaph — 

"  0  youth  in  arms  approved  ! 
0  soft  humanity  in  age  beloved." ' 

His  son  David,  and  a  younger  brother,  Frank,  a  soldier  who  per- 
ished by  drowning  on  a  boating  party  from  Gibraltar,  were  my 
school -fellows;  and  with  the  survivor,  now  Lord  Pitmilly,2  I  have 

1  "0  born  to  arms!     O  worth  in  youth  ap-  2  David  Monypenny  had  been  on  the  Bench 

proved,  from  1813;  he  retired  in  1830,  and  died  at  the 

0  soft  humanity  in  age  beloved!"  age  of  eighty-one  in  1850. 
—See  Pope,  Epitaphs,  9. 


80  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

always  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse.  Of  this  gentleman,  on  whom 
my  fortunes  are  to  depend,  I  know  little.  He  was  Colin  Mackenzie's 
partner  in  business  while  my  friend  pursued  it,  and  he  speaks  highly 
of  him:  that's  a  great  deal.  He  is  secretary  to  the  Pitt  Club,  and 
we  have  had  all  our  lives  the  habit  idem  sentire  de  republica :  that's 
much  too.  Lastly,  he  is  a  man  of  perfect  honour  and  reputation  ;  and 
I  have  nothing  to  ask  which  such  a  man  would  not  either  grant  or 
convince  me  was  unreasonable.  I  have,  to  be  sure,  some  of  my  con- 
stitutional and  hereditary  obstinacy ;  but  it  is  in  me  a  dormant  qual- 
ity. Convince  my  understanding,  and  I  am  perfectly  docile  ;  stir  my 
passions  by  coldness  or  affronts,  and  the  devil  would  not  drive  me 
from  my  purpose.  Let  me  record,  I  have  striven  against  this  beset- 
ting sin.  When  I  was  a  boy,  and  on  foot  expeditions,  as  we  had. 
many,  no  creature  could  be  so  indifferent  which  way  our  course  was 
directed,  and  I  acquiesced  in  what  any  one  proposed ;  but  if  I  was 
once  driven  to  make  a  choice,  and  felt  piqued  in  honour  to  maintain 
my  proposition,  I  have  broken  off  from  the  whole  party,  rather  than 
yield  to  any  one.  Time  has  sobered  this  pertinacity  of  mind  ;  but  it 
still  exists,  and  I  must  be  on  my  guard  against  it. 

It  is  the  same  with  me  in  politics.  In  general  I  care  very  little 
about  the  matter,  and  from  year's  end  to  year's  end  have  scarce  a 
thought  connected  with  them,  except  to  laugh  at  the  fools  who  think 
to  make  themselves  great  men  out  of  little,  by  swaggering  in  the  rear 
of  a  party.  But  either  actually  important  events,  or  such  as  seemed 
so  by  their  close  neighbourhood  to  me,  have  always  hurried  me  off 
my  feet,  and  made  me,  as  I  have  sometimes  afterwards  regretted, 
more  forward  and  more  violent  than  those  who  had  a  regular  jog-trot 
way  of  busying  themselves  in  public  matters.  Good  luck ;  for  had  I 
lived  in  troublesome  times,  and  chanced  to  be  on  the  unhappy  side, 
I  had  been  hanged  to  a  certainty.  What  I  have  always  remarked  has 
been  that  many  who  have  hallooed  me  on  at  public  meetings,  and  so 
forth,  have  quietly  left  me  to  the  odium  which  a  man  known  to  the 
public  always  has  more  than  his  own  share  of  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  were  easily  successful  in  pressing  before  me,  who  never 
pressed  forward  at  all,  when  there  was  any  distribution  of  public  fa- 
vours or  the  like.  I  am  horribly  tempted  to  interfere  in  this  business 
of  altering  the  system  of  banks  in  Scotland ;  and  yet  I  know  that  if 
I  can  attract  any  notice,  I  will  offend  my  English  friends  without 
propitiating  one  man  in  Scotland.  I  will  think  of  it  till  to-morrow. 
It  is  making  myself  of  too  much  importance  after  all. 

February  18. —  I  set  about  Malachi  Malagrowther's  Letter  on 
the  late  disposition  to  change  everything  in  Scotland  to  an  English 
model,  but  without  resolving  about  the  publication.  They  do  treat 
us  very  provokingly. 

"  0  Land  of  Cakes !  said  the  Northern  bard, 
Though  all  the  world  betrays  thee, 


1826.]  JOURNAL  81 

One  faithful  pen  thy  rights  shall  guard, 
One  faithful  harp  shall  praise  thee." ' 

Called  on  the  Lord  Chief  Commissioner,  who,  understanding  there 
was  a  hitch  in  our  arrangements,  had  kindly  proposed  to  execute  an 
arrangement  for  my  relief.  I  could  not,  I  think,  have  thought  of  it 
at  any  rate.  But  it  is  unnecessary. 

February  19. — Finished  my  letter  (Malachi  Malagrowther)  this 
morning,  and  sent  it  to  James  B.,  who  is  to  call  with  the  result  this 
forenoon.  I  am  not  very  anxious  to  get  on  with  Woodstock.  I  want 
to  see  what  Constable's  people  mean  to  do  when  they  have  their  trus- 
tee. For  an  unfinished  work  they  must  treat  with  the  author.  It  is 
the  old  story  of  the  varnish  spread  over  the  picture,  which  nothing 
ttut  the  artist's  own  hand  could  remove.  A  finished  work  might  be 
seized  under  some  legal  pretence. 

Being  troubled  with  thick-coming  fancies,  and  a  slight  palpitation 
of  the  heart,  I  have  been  reading  the  Chronicle  of  the  Good  Knight 
Messire  Jacques  de  Lalain — curious,  but  dull,  from  the  constant  rep- 
etition of  the  same  species  of  combats  in  the  same  style  and  phrase. 
It  is  like  washing  bushels  of  sand  for  a  grain  of  gold.  It  passes  the 
time,  however,  especially  in  that  listless  mood  when  your  mind  is 
half  on  your  book,  half  on  something  else.  You  catch  something  to 
arrest  the  attention  every  now  and  then,  and  what  you  miss  is  not 
worth  going  back  upon ;  idle  man's  studies,  in  short.  Still  things 
occur  to  one.  Something  might  be  made  out  of  the  Pass  or  Fountain 
of  Tears,2  a  tale  of  chivalry, — taken  from  the  Passage  of  Arms,  which 
Jacques  de  Lalain  maintained  for  the  first  day  of  every  month  for  a 
twelvemonth.3  The  first  mention  perhaps  of  red-hot  balls  appears  in 
the  siege  of  Oudenarde  by  the  citizens  of  Ghent.  Chronique,  p.  293, 
This  would  be  light  summer  work. 

J.  B.  came  and  sat  an  hour.  I  led  him  to  talk  of  Woodstock ;  and, 
to  say  truth,  his  approbation  did  me  much  good.  I  am  aware  it  may 
— nay,  must — be  partial;  yet  is  he  Tom  Tell-truth,  and  totally  un- 
able to  disguise  his  real  feelings.4  I  think  I  make  no  habit  of  feeding 

i  Parody  on  Moore's  Minstrel  Boy. — j.  G.  L.  point — '  Come,  speak  out,  ray  good  fellow,  what 

a  "Le  Pas  de  la  Fontaine  des  Pleurs. " —  has  put  it  in  your  head  to  be  on  ceremony 

Chroniques  Nationals.  with  me?  But  the  result  is  in  one  word — dis- 

3  This  hint  was  taken  up  in  Count  Robert  of  appointment!'  My  silence  admitted  his  infer- 
Part*. — J.  G.  L.  ence  to  its  fullest  extent.  His  countenance 

*  James  Ballantyne  gives  an  interesting  ac-  certainly  did  look  rather  blank  for  a  few  sec- 
count  of  an  interview  a  dozen  years  before  this  onds  (for  it  is  a  singular  fact,  that  before  the 
time,  when  "  Tom  Telltruth  "  had  a  somewhat  public,  or  rather  the  booksellers,  gave  their 
delicate  task  to  perform : —  decision  he  no  more  knew  whether  he  had 

"  The  Lord  of  the  Isles  was  by  far  the  least  written  well  or  ill,  than  whether  a  die,  which 

popular  of  the  series,  and  Mr.  Scott  was  very  he  threw  out  of  a  box,  was  to  turn  out  a  sise 

prompt  at  making  such  discoveries.  In  about  or  an  ace).  However,  he  almost  instantly  re- 

a  week  after  its  publication  he  took  me  into  his  sumed  his  spirits  and  expressed  his  wonder 

library,  and  asked  me  what  the  people  were  rather  that  his  popularity  had  lasted  so  long, 

saying  about  The  Lord  of  the  Isles.  I  hesitat-  than  that  it  should  have  given  way  at  last.  At 

ed,  much  in  the  same  manner  that  Gil  Bias  length,  with  a  perfectly  cheerful  manner,  he 

might  be  supposed  to  do  when  a  similar  ques-  said,  'Well,  well,  James,  but  you  know  wo 

tion  was  put  by  the  Archbishop  of  Grenada,  must  not  droop — for  you  know  we  can't  and 

but  he  very  speedily  brought  the  matter  to  a  won't  give  over— we  must  just  try  something 


82 


JOURNAL 


[FEB. 


on  praise,  and  despise  those  whom  I  see  greedy  for  it,  as  much  as  I 
should  an  under- bred  fellow,  who,  after  eating  a  cherry- tart,  pro- 
ceeded to  lick  the  plate.  But  when  one  is  flagging,  a  little  praise  (if 
it  can  be  had  genuine  and  unadulterated  by  flattery,  which  is  as  dif- 
ficult to  come  by  as  the  genuine  mountain-dew)  is  a  cordial  after  all. 
So  now — vamos  corazon — let  us  atone  for  the  loss  of  the  morning. 

February  20. — Yesterday,  though  late  in  beginning,  I  nearly  fin- 
ished my  task,  which  is  six  of  my  close  pages,  about  thirty  pages  of 
print,  to  a  full  and  uninterrupted  day's  work.  To-day  I  have  already 
written  four,  and  with  some  confidence.  Thus  does  flattery  or  praise 
oil  the  wheels.  It  is  but  two  o'clock.  Skene  was  here  remonstrating 
against  my  taking  apartments  at  the  Albyn  Club,1  and  recommending 
that  I  should  rather  stay  with  them.2  I  told  him  that  was  altogether 
impossible  ;  I  hoped  to  visit  them  often,  but  for  taking  a  permanent 
residence  I  was  altogether  the  country  mouse,  and  voted  for 

" A  hollow  tree, 

A  crust  of  bread  and  liberty."  * 

The  chain  of  friendship,  however  bright,  does  not  stand  the  attrition 
of  constant  close  contact. 

February  21. — Corrected  the  proofs  of  Malachi*  this  morning;  it 
may  fall  dead,  and  there  will  be  a  squib  lost ;  it  may  chance  to  light 


else,  and  the  question  is,  what  it 's  to  be  ?'  Nor 
was  it  any  wonder  he  spoke  thus,  for  he  could 
not  fail  to  be  unconsciously  conscious,  if  I  dare 
use  such  a  term,  of  his  own  gigantic,  and  as 
yet  undeveloped,  powers,  and  was  somewhat 
under  forty  years  old.  I  am  by  no  means  sure 
whether  he  then  alluded  to  Waverley,  as  if  he 
had  mentioned  it  to  me  for  the  first  time,  for 
my  memory  has  greatly  failed  me  touching 
this,  or  whether  he  alluded  to  it,  as  in  fact  ap- 
pears to  have  been  the  case,  as  having  been 
commenced  and  laid  aside  several  years  be- 
fore, but  I  well  recollect  that  he  consulted  me 
with  his  usual  openness  and  candour  respect- 
ing his  probability  of  succeeding  as  a  novelist, 
and  I  confess  my  expectations  were  not  very 
sanguine.  He  saw  this  and  said,  '  Well,  I  don't 
see  why  I  should  not  succeed  as  well  as  other 
people.  Come,  faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady 
— let  us  try. '  I  remember  when  the  work  was 
put  into  my  hands,  I  could  not  get  myself  to 
think  much  of  the  Waverley  Honour  Scenes, 
but  to  my  shame  be  it  spoken,  when  he  had 
reached  the  exquisite  scenes  of  Scottish  man- 
ners at  Tully-Veolan,  I  thought  them,  and  pro- 
nounced them,  vulgarl  When  the  success  of 
the  book  so  utterly  knocked  me  down  as  a  man 
of  taste,  all  that  the  good-natured  Author  ob- 
served was,  '  Well,  I  really  thought  you  might 
be  wrong  about  the  Scotch.  Why,  Burns  had 
already  attracted  universal  attention  to  all 
about  Scotland,  and  I  confess  I  could  not  see 
why  I  should  not  be  able  to  keep  the  flame 
alive,  merely  because  I  wrote  in  prose  in  place 
of  rhyme.'  " — Memorandum. 

1  This  was  a  club-house  on  the  London  plan, 
in  1'rinces  Street  [No.  51],  a  little  eastward  from 


the  Mound.  On  its  dissolution  soon  afterwards, 
Sir  W.  was  elected  by  acclamation  into  the  elder 
Society,  called  the  New  Club,  who  had  then 
their  house  in  St.  Andrew  Square  [No.  3],  and 
since  1837  in  Princes  Street  [No.  85]. 

a  Mr.  Skene's  house  was  No.  126  Princes 
Street.  Scott's  written  answer  has  been  pre- 
served:— 

"Mv  DEAR  SKKXB, — A  thousand  thanks  for 
your  kind  proposal.  But  I  am  a  solitary  mon- 
ster by  temper,  and  must  necessarily  couch  in 
a  den  of  my  own.  I  should  not,  1  assure  you, 
have  made  any  ceremony  in  accepting  your 
offer  had  it  at  all  been  like  to  suit  me. 

"  But  I  must  make  an  arrangement  which  is 
to  last  for  years,  and  perhaps  for  my  lifetime; 
therefore  the  sooner  I  place  myself  on  my  foot- 
ing it  will  be  so  much  the  better. — Always, 
dear  Skeue,  your  obliged  and  faithful, 

W.  SCOTT. 

*  Pope's  Imitation  of  Horace,  Bk.  ii.  Sat.  6. 
— j.  o.  L. 

*  These  letters  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh 
Weekly  Journal  in  February  and  March,  1826. 
"They  were  then  collected  into  a  pamphlet, 
and  ran  through  numerous  editions ;  in  the 
subsequent  discussions  in  Parliament,  they  were 
frequently  referred  to;  and  although  an  elab- 
orate answer  by  the  then  Secretary  of  the  Ad- 
miralty, Mr.  Croker,  attracted  much  notice,  and 
was,  by  the  Government  of  the  time,  expected 
to  neutralise  the  effect  of  the  northern  lucu- 
brations—the proposed  measure,  as  regarded 
Scotland,  was  ultimately  abandoned,  and  that 
result  was  universally  ascribed  to  Malachi  Mal- 
agrowther." — Scott's  Misc.  Works,  voL  X*i. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  83 

on  some  ingredients  of  national  feeling  and  set  folk's  beards  in  a 
blaze — and  so  much  the  better  if  it  does.  I  mean  better  for  Scotland — 
not  a  whit  for  me.  Attended  the  hearing  in  Parliament]  House  till 
near  four  o'clock,  so  I  shall  do  little  to-night,  for  I  am  tired  and 
sleepy.  One  person  talking  for  a  long  time,  whether  in  pulpit  or  at 
the  bar,  or  anywhere  else,  unless  the  interest  be  great,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  the  highest  character,  always  sets  me  to  sleep.  I  impu- 
dently lean  my  head  on  my  hand  in  the  Court  and  take  my  nap  with- 
out shame.  The  Lords  may  keep  awake  and  mind  their  own  affairs. 
Quod  supra  nos  nihil  ad  nos.  These  clerks'  stools  are  certainly  as 
easy  seats  as  are  in  Scotland,  those  of  the  Barons  of  Exchequer  al- 
ways excepted. 

February  22. — Paid  Lady  Scott  her  fortnight's  allowance,  £24. 

Ballantyne  breakfasted,  and  is  to  negotiate  about  Malachi  with 
Constable  and  Blackwood.  It  reads  not  amiss ;  and  if  I  can  get  a 
few  guineas  for  it  I  shall  not  be  ashamed  to  take  them ;  for  paying 
Lady  Scott,  I  have  just  left  between  £3  and  £4  for  any  necessary 
occasion  and  my  salary  does  not  become  due  until  20th  March,  and 
the  expense  of  removing,  etc.,  is  to  be  provided  for : 

"But  shall  we  go  mourn  for  that,  my  dear? 

The  cold  moon  shines  by  night, 
And  when  we  wander  here  and  there, 
We  then  do  go  most  right."1 

The  mere  scarcity  of  money  (so  that  actual  wants  are  provided)  is  not 
poverty — it  is  the  bitter  draft  to  owe  money  which  we  cannot  pay. 
Laboured  fairly  at  Woodstock  to-day,  but  principally  in  revising  and 
adding  to  Malachi,  of  which  an  edition  as  a  pamphlet  is  anxiously 
desired.  I  have  lugged  in  my  old  friend  Cardrona2 — I  hope  it  will 
not  be  thought  unkindly.  The  Banks  are  anxious  to  have  it  pub- 
lished. They  were  lately  exercising  lenity  towards  me,  and  if  I  can 
benefit  them,  it  will  be  an  instance  of  the  "King's  errand  lying  in 
the  cadger's  gate." 

February  23. — Corrected  two  sheets  of  Woodstock  this  morning. 
These  are  not  the  days  of  idleness.  The  fact  is,  that  the  not  seeing 
company  gives  me  a  command  of  my  time  which  I  possessed  at  no 
other  period  in  my  life,  at  least  since  I  knew  how  to  make  some  use 
of  my  leisure.  There  is  a  great  pleasure  in  sitting  down  to  write 
with  the  consciousness  that  nothing  will  occur  during  the  day  to 
break  the  spell.  Detained  in  the  Court  till  past  three,  and  came 
home  just  in  time  to  escape  a  terrible  squall.  I  am  a  good  deal  jaded, 
and  will  not  work  till  after  dinner.  There  is  a  sort  of  drowsy  vac- 
illation of  mind  attends  fatigue  with  me.  I  can  command  my  pen 

1  Winter's  Tale,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2,  slightly  al-  Sir  Walter  told  many  stories.  The  allusion 

terecl.  here  is  to  the  anecdote  of  the  Leetle  Anderson 

3  The  late  Mr.  Williamson  of  Cardrona  in  in  the  first  of  Malachi's  Epistles. — See  Scott's 

Peeblesshire,  was  a  strange  humorist,  of  whom  P rose  Mitcellanies,  vol.  xxi.  p.  289. — j.  o.  L. 


84  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

as  the  school  copy  recommends,  but  cannot  equally  command  my 
thought,  and  often  write  one  -word  for  another.  Read  a  little  volume 
called  The  Omen1 — very  well  written — deep  and  powerful  language. 
Aut  Erasmus  aut  Diabolus,  it  is  Lockhart  or  I  am  strangely  deceived. 
It  is  passed  for  Wilson's  though,  but  Wilson  has  more  of  the  falsetto 
of  assumed  sentiment,  less  of  the  depth  of  gloomy  and  powerful  feeling. 
February  24. — Went  down  to  printing-office  after  the  Court,  and 
corrected  Malachi.  J.  B.'s  name  is  to  be  on  the  imprint,  so  he  will 
subscribe  the  book.  He  reproaches  me  with  having  taken  much 
more  pains  on  this  temporary  pamphlet  than  on  works  which  have  a 
greater  interest  on  my  fortunes.  I  have  certainly  bestowed  enough 
of  revision  and  correction,  But  the  cases  are  different.  In  a  novel 
or  poem,  I  run  the  course  alone — here  I  am  taking  up  the  cudgels, 
and  may  expect  a  drubbing  in  return.  Besides,  I  do  feel  that  this  is 
public  matter  in  which  the  country  is  deeply  interested ;  and,  there- 
fore, is  far  more  important  than  anything  referring  to  my  fame  or 
fortune  alone.  The  pamphlet  will  soon  be  out — meantime  Malachi 
prospers  and  excites  much  attention.8  The  Banks  have  bespoke  500 
copies.  The  country  is  taking  the  alarm ;  and  I  think  the  Ministers 
will  not  dare  to  press  the  measure.  I  should  rejoice  to  see  the  old 
red  lion  ramp  a  little,  and  the  thistle  again  claim  its  nemo  me  impune. 
I  do  believe  Scotsmen  will  show  themselves  unanimous  at  least  where 
their  cash  is  concerned.  They  shall  not  want  backing.  I  incline  to 
cry  with  Biron  in  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 

"  More  Ates,  more  At6s !   stir  them  on." 

I  suppose  all  imaginative  people  feel  more  or  less  of  excitation  from 
a  scene  of  insurrection  or  tumult,  or  of  general  expression  of  national 
feeling.  When  I  was  a  lad,  poor  Davie  Douglas8  used  to  accuse  me 
of  being  cupidus  novarum  rerum,  and  say  that  I  loved  the  stimulus 
of  a  broil.  It  might  be  so  then,  and  even  still — 

"Even  in  our  ashes  glow  their  wonted  fires."4 

Whimsical  enough  that  when  I  was  trying  to  animate  Scotland  against 
the  currency  bill,  John  Gibson  brought  me  the  deed  of  trust,  assign- 

'  The  Omen,  by  Gait,  had  just  been  pub-  Out  claymore  »nd  down  wi'  gnn, 
lished.— See  Sir  Walter's  review  of  this  novel 

in  the  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,  vol.  xviii.  p.  jn  tjje  noxt  edition  it  was  suppressed,  as  some 

333.  John  Gait  died  at  Greenock  in  April,  1839.  friends  thought  it  might  be  misunderstood. 

— J.  G.  L.  Mr.  Croker  in  his  reply  had  urged  that  if  the 

»  "  A  Letter  from   Malachi   Malagrowther,  author  appealed  to  the  edge  of  the  claymore  at 

Esq.,  to  the  Editor  of  the  Edinburgh  Weekly  Prestonpans,  he  might  refer  him  to  the  point 

Journal,  on  the  proposed  Change  of  Currency,  of  ti,e  bayonet  at  Culloden.— See  Croker's  Cor- 

and  other  late  alterations  as  they  affect,  or  are  respimdence,  vol.  i.  pp.  317-320.  and  Scott's  Life, 

intended  to  affect,  the  kingdom  of  Scotland.  vo]  Vjjj  pp  301-5. 

gvo,  Edin.  1826.  3' Lord  Reston,  who  died  at  Gladsmuir  in 

The  motto  to  the  epistle  was:—  1S10      He  was  one  of  Pcott's  companions  at 

«  When  the  p!p«  bepn  to  PUy  »"e  J  ijjll  School       See  Life,  Vol.  i.  p.  40. 

Tvai  taittii  to  the  drum,     '  *  See  Gray  s  E.egy.—i.  c.  L, 


1826.]  JOURNAL  85 

ing  my  whole  estate  to  be  subscribed  by  me ;  so  that  I  am  turning 
patriot,  and  taking  charge  of  the  affairs  of  the  country,  on  the  very 
day  I  was  proclaiming  myself  incapable  of  managing  my  own.  What 
of  that  ?  The  eminent  politician,  Quidnunc,1  was  in  the  same  condi- 
tion. Who  would  think  of  their  own  trumpery  debts,  when  they  are 
taking  the  support  of  the  whole  system  of  Scottish  banking  on  their 
shoulders  ?  Odd  enough  too — on  this  day,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  awful  17th  January,  we  entertain  at  dinner — Lady  Anna  Maria 
Elliot,8  W.  Clerk,  John  A.  Murray,3  and  Thomas  Thomson,4  as  if  we 
gave  a  dinner  on  account  of  my  cessiofori. 

February  25. — Our  party  yesterday  went  off  very  gaily ;  much 
laugh  and  fun,  and  I  think  I  enjoyed  it  more  from  the  rarity  of  the 
event — I  mean  from  having  seen  society  at  home  so  seldom  of  late. 
My  head  aches  slightly  though ;  yet  we  were  but  a  bottle  of  Cham- 
pagne, one  of  Port,  one  of  old  Sherry,  and  two  of  Claret,  among  four 
gentlemen  and  three  ladies.  I  have  been  led  from  this  incident  to 
think  of  taking  chambers  near  Clerk,  in  Rose  Court.5  Methinks  the 
retired  situation  should  suit  me  well.  There  a  man  and  woman 
would  be  my  whole  establishment.  My  superfluous  furniture  might 
serve,  and  I  could  ask  a  friend  or  two  to  dinner,  as  I  have  been  ac- 
customed to  do.  I  will  look  at  the  place  to-day. 

I  must  set  now  to  a  second  epistle  of  Malachi  to  the  Athenians-. 
If  I  can  but  get  the  sulky  Scottish  spirit  set  up,  the  devil  won't  turn 
them. 

"  Cock  up  your  beaver,  and  cock  it  fu'  sprush ; 

We'll  over  the  Border,  and  give  them  a  brush ; 

There's  somebody  there  we'll  teach  better  behaviour; 

Hey,  Johnnie  lad,  cock  up  your  beaver." 6 

February  26. — Spent  the  morning  and  till  dinner  on  Malachi1  s 
second  epistle  to  the  Athenians.  It  is  difficult  to  steer  betwixt  the 
natural  impulse  of  one's  national  feelings  setting  in  one  direction,  and 
the  prudent  regard  to  the  interests  of  the  empire  and  its  internal 
peace  and  quiet,  recommending  less  vehement  expression.  I  will  en- 
deavour to  keep  sight  of  both.  But  were  my  own  interests  alone 
concerned,  d — n  me  but  I  would  give  it  them  hot !  Had  some  valu- 
able communications  from  Colin  Mackenzie  and  Lord  Medwyn,  which 
will  supply  my  plentiful  lack  of  facts. 

Received  an  anonymous  satire  in  doggrel,  which,  having  read  the 
first  verse  and  last,  I  committed  to  the  flames.  Peter  Murray,  son  of 

1  In  Arthur  Murphy's  farce  otThe  Upholster-      24;  he  succeeded  Sir  Walter  as  President  of 
er,  or  What  News?  the  Baunatyne  Club  in  1832,  and  died  in  1852. 

rV  F«I  n?1t-nVari%SH^'  ±'f  «>' T^f±  •  X™*  Court,  where  Mr.  Clerk  had  a  bache- 
Donk^n  183 '  married  Sir  Kufane  ,or.g  establisnln'ent)  was  sitllated  immediately 

i     loo*       A  IOQK       behind  St.  Andrew's  Church,  George   Street. 
3  Af  erwar  Is  Lord  Advoca  e ,1834  and  1835       Th    name  dl  d  from  our  strseet  Direc. 

1839 ;  hedied  in  1859  tOrieS  Sh°rtly  """  Mr"  Clerk'S  death  in  1847' 

*  The  learned  editor  of  the  Acts  of  the  Parlia-  •  Burns,  in  Johnson's  Musical  Museum,  No. 
ments  of  Scotland,  in  10  vols.  folio,  Edin.  18U-  319. 


86  JOURNAL  [FEB.  1826. 

the  clever  Lord  Elibank,  called  and  sat  half-an-liour — an  old  friend, 
and  who,  from  the  peculiarity  and  originality  of  his  genius,  is  one  of 
the  most  entertaining  companions  I  have  ever  known.1  But  I  must 
finish  Malachi. 

February  27. — Malachi  is  getting  on  ;  I  must  finish  him  to-night. 
I  dare  say  some  of  my  London  friends  will  be  displeased — Canning 
perhaps,  for  he  is  engoue  of  Huskisson.  Can't  help  it. 

The  place  I  looked  at  won't  do ;  but  I  really  must  get  some  lodg- 
ing, for,  reason  or  none,  Dalgleish2  will  not  leave  me,  and  cries  and 
makes  a  scene.  Now  if  I  stayed  alone  in  a  little  set  of  chambers,  he 
would  serve  greatly  for  my  accommodation.  There  are  some  nice 
places  of  the  kind  in  the  New  Buildings,  but  they  are  distant  from 
the  Court,  and  I  cannot  walk  well  on  the  pavement.  It  is  odd  enough 
that  just  when  I  had  made  a  resolution  to  use  my  coach  frequently  I 
ceased  to  keep  one — in  town  at  least. 

February  28. — Completed  Malachi  to-day.  It  is  more  serious 
than  the  first,  and  in  some  places  perhaps  too  peppery.  Never  mind, 
if  you  would  have  a  horse  kick,  make  a  crupper  out  of  a  whin-cow,3 
and  I  trust  to  see  Scotland  kick  and  fling  to  some  purpose.  Wood- 
stock lies  back  for  this.  But  quid  non  pro  patria  ? 

i  One  of  the  nineteen  original  members  of  he  cared  not  how  much  his  wages  were  re- 

Tht  Club. — See  Mr.  Irving's  letter  with  names,  duced— but  go  he  would  not.—  i.  G.  L. 
Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  207-8,  and  Scott's  joyous  visit 

in  1793  to  Meigle,  pp.  292-4.  '  Whin  -cow  —  Anglice,  a  bush  of  furze.— 

*  Dalgleish  was  Sir  Walter's  butler.    He  said  j.  G.  L. 


MARCH 

March  1. — Malachi  is  in  the  Edinburgh  Journal  to-day,  and  reads 
like  the  work  of  an  uncompromising  right  -  forward  Scot  of  the  old 
school.  Some  of  the  cautious  and  pluckless  instigators  will  be  afraid 
of  their  confederate ;  for  if  a  man  of  some  energy  and  openness  of 
character  happens  to  be  on  the  same  side  with  these  truckling  jobbers, 
they  stand  as  much  in  awe  of  his  vehemence  as  doth  the  inexperi- 
enced conjurer  who  invokes  a  fiend  whom  he  cannot  manage.  Came 
home  in  a  heavy  shower  with  the  Solicitor.  I  tried  him  on  the  ques- 
tion, but  found  him  reserved  and  cautious.  The  future  Lord  Advo- 
cate must  be  cautious  ;  but  I  can  tell  my  good  friend  John  Hope  that, 
if  he  acts  the  part  of  a  firm  and  resolute  Scottish  patriot,  both  his 
own  country  and  England  will  respect  him  the  more.  Ah !  Hal 
Dundas,  there  was  no  such  truckling  in  thy  day  ! 

Looked  out  a  quantity  of  things  to  go  to  Abbotsford ;  for  we  are 
flitting,  if  you  please.1  It  is  with  a  sense  of  pain  that  I  leave  behind 
a  parcel  of  trumpery  prints  and  little  ornaments,  once  the  pride  of 

Lady  S 's  heart,  but  which  she  sees  consigned  with  indifference 

to  the  chance  of  an  auction.  Things  that  have  had  their  day  of  im- 
portance with  me  I  cannot  forget,  though  the  merest  trifles.  But  I 
am  glad  that  she,  with  bad  health  and  enough  to  vex  her,  has  not  the 
same  useless  mode  of  associating  recollections  with  this  unpleasant 
business.  The  best  part  of  it  is  the  necessity  of  leaving  behind,  viz., 
getting  rid  of,  a  set  of  most  wretched  daubs  of  landscapes,  in  great 
gilded  frames,  of  which  I  have  often  been  heartily  ashamed.  The 
history  of  them  was  curious.  An  amateur  artist  (a  lady)  happened 
to  fall  into  misfortunes,  upon  which  her  landscapes,  the  character  of 
which  had  been  buoyed  up  far  beyond  their  proper  level,  sank  even 
beneath  it,  and  it  was  low  enough.  One  most  amiable  and  accom- 
plished old  lady  continued  to  encourage  her  pencil,  and  to  order 
picture  after  picture,  which  she  sent  in  presents  to  her  friends.  I 
suppose  I  have  eight  or  ten  of  them,  which  I  could  not  avoid  accept- 
ing. There  will  be  plenty  of  laughing  when  they  come  to  be  sold. 
It  would  be  a  good  joke  enough  to  cause  it  to  be  circulated  that 
they  were  performances  of  my  own  in  early  youth,  and  they  would 
be  looked  on  and  bought  up  as  curiosities.  True  it  is  that  I  took 

1  The  full-length  picture  of  Sir  Walter  (with  session  till  1831,  when  it  was  sent  to  Abbots- 

the  two  dogs,  Camp  and  the  deerhound)  by  .  ford,  where  it  now  hangs. — See  Letter,  Scott  to 

Raeburn,  painted  in  1809,  was  at  this  time  Skene,  under  January  16th,  1831, 
given  to  Mr.  Skene,  and  remained  in  his  pos- 


88  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

lessons  of  oil-painting  in  youth  from  a  little  Jew  animalcule,  a  smouch 
called  Barrel!,  a  clever  sensible  creature  though ;  but  I  could  make 
no  progress  either  in  painting  or  drawing.  Nature  denied  rne  cor- 
rectness of  eye  and  neatness  of  hand,  yet  I  was  very  desirous  to  be 
a  draughtsman  at  least,  and  laboured  harder  to  attain  that  point  than 
at  any  other  in  my  recollection,  to  which  I  did  not  make  some  ap- 
proaches. My  oil-paintings  were  to  Miss above  commemorated 

what  hers  are  to  Claude  Lorraine.  Yet  Burrell  was  not  useless  to 
me  altogether  neither ;  he  was  a  Prussian,  and  I  got  from  him  many 
a  long  story  of  the  battles  of  Frederic,  in  whose  armies  his  father  had 
been  a  commissary,  or  perhaps  a  spy.  I  remember  his  picturesque 
account  of  seeing  a  party  of  the  Black  Hussars  bringing  in  some 
forage  carts  which  they  had  taken  from  a  body  of  the  Cossacks, 
whom  he  described  as  lying  on  the  top  of  the  carts  of  hay,  mortally 
wounded,  and,  like  the  Dying  Gladiator,  eyeing  their  own  blood  as  it 
ran  down  through  the  straw.  I  afterwards  took  lessons  from  Walker, 
whom  we  used  to  call  Blue-beard,  lie  was  one  of  the  most  con- 
ceited persons  in  the  world,  but  a  good  teacher — one  of  the  ugliest 
countenances  he  had  too — enough,  as  we  say,  to  spean  weans.1  The 
man  was  always  extremely  precise  in  the  quality  of  everything  about 
him,  his  dress,  accommodations,  and  everything  else.  He  became  in- 
solvent, poor  man,  and  for  some  reason  or  other  I  attended  the  meet- 
ing of  those  concerned  in  his  affairs.  Instead  of  ordinary  accommo- 
dations for  writing,  each  of  the  persons  present  was  equipped  with  a 
large  sheet  of  drawing  paper  and  a  swan's  quill.  It  was  mournfully 
ridiculous  enough.  Skirving"  made  an  admirable  likeness  of  Walker, 
not  a  single  scar  or  mark  of  the  smallpox  which  seamed  his  counte- 
nance, but  the  too  accurate  brother  of  the  brush  had  faithfully  laid  it 
down  in  longitude  and  latitude.  Poor  Walker  destroyed  it  (being  in 
crayons)  rather  than  let  the  caricature  of  his  ugliness  appear  at  the 
sale  of  his  effects.  I  did  learn  myself  to  take  some  vile  views  from 
Nature.  When  Will  Clerk  and  I  lived  very  much  together,  I  used 
sometimes  to  make  them  under  his  instruction.  He  to  whom,  as  to 
all  his  family,  art  is  a  familiar  attribute,  wondered  at  me  as  a  New- 
foundland dog  would  at  a  greyhound  which  showed  fear  of  the  water. 
Going  down  to  Liddesdale  once,  L  drew  the  castle  of  Hermitage 
in  my  fashion,  and  sketched  it  so  accurately  that  with  a  few  verbal 
instructions  Clerk  put  it  into  regular  form,  Williams*  (the  Grecian) 
copied  over  Clerk's,  and  his  drawing  was  engraved  as  the  frontis- 
piece of  the  first  volume  of  the  Kelso  edition,  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scot- 
tish Border.*  Do  you  know  why  you  have  written  all  this  down,  Sir 
W.  ?  Because  it  pleases  me  to  record  that  this  thrice -transmitted 

1  Spean  a  wean,  i.e.  wean  a  child.  tury.     His  Travels  in  Italy  and  Greece  were 

a  Archibald  Starving  (1749-1819),  well  known  published  in  1820,  and  the  Views  in  Greece  in 

as  a  portrait  painter  in  chalk  and  crayons  in  1827.    This  work  was  completed  in  1829,  the 

Edinburgh  in  the  early  part  of  this  century.  •  year  in  which  he  died. 

»  H.  W.  Williams,  a  native  of  Wales,  who  set- 
tled in  Edinburgh  at  the  beginning  of  this  cen-  4  Vols.  i.  and  ii.  were  published  in  1802. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  89 

drawing,  though  taken  originally  from  a  sketch  of  mine,  was  ex- 
tremely like  Hermitage,  which  neither  of  my  colleagues  in  the  task 
had  ever  seen  ?  No,  that's  not  the  reason.  You  want  to  put  off 
writing  Woodstock,  just  as  easily  done  as  these  memoranda,  but 
which  it  happens  your  duty  and  your  prudence  recommend,  and 
therefore  you  are  loath  to  begin. 

"  Heigho, 

I  can't  say  no; 

But  this  piece  of  task-work  off  I  can  stave,  0, 
For  Malacbi's  posting  into  an  octavo ; 
To  correct  the  proof-sheets  only  this  night  I  have,  0, 
So,  Madame  Conscience,  you've  gotten  as  good  as  you  gave,  0 
But  to-morrow's  a  new  day  and  we'll  better  behave,  0, 
So  I  lay  down  the  pen,  and  your  pardon  I  crave,  0." 

In  the  evening  Mr.  Gibson  called  and  transacted  business. 

March  2. — I  have  a  letter  from  Colin  Mackenzie,  approving  Mala- 
chi, — "  Cold  men  may  say  it  is  too  strong ;  but  from  the  true  men 
of  Scotland  you  are  sure  of  the  warmest  gratitude."  I  never  have 
yet  found,  nor  do  I  expect  it  on  this  occasion,  that  ill-will  dies  in 
debt,  or  what  is  called  gratitude  distresses  herself  by  frequent  pay- 
ments. The  one  is  like  a  ward-holding  and  pays  its  reddendo  in  hard 
blows.  The  other  a  blanch-tenure,  and  is  discharged  for  payment  of 
a  red  rose  or  a  peppercorn.  He  that  takes  the  forlorn  hope  in  an  at- 
tack, is  often  deserted  by  those  that  should  support  him,  and  who 
generally  throw  the  blame  of  their  own  cowardice  upon  his  rashness. 
We  shall  see  this  will  end  in  the  same  way.  But  I  foresaw  it  from  the 
beginning.  The  bankers  will  be  persuaded  that  it  is  a  squib  which 
may  burn  their  own  fingers,  and  will  curse  the  poor  pyrotechnist  that 
compounded  it ;  if  they  do,  they  be  d — d.  Slept  indifferently,  and 
dreamed  of  Napoleon's  last  moments,  of  which  I  was  reading  a  medi- 
cal account  last  night,  by  Dr.  Arnott.  Horrible  death — a  cancer  on 
the  pylorus.  I  would  have  given  something  to  have  lain  still  this 
morning  and  made  up  for  lost  time.  But  desidiae  valedixi.  If  you 
once  turn  on  your  side  after  the  hour  at  which  you  ought  to  rise, 
it  is  all  over.  Bolt  up  at  once.  Bad  night  last — the  next  is  sure  to 
be  better. 

"  When  the  drum  beats,  make  ready ; 
When  the  fife  plays,  march  away — 
To  the  roll-call,  to  the  roll-call,  to  the  roll-call, 
Before  the  break  of  day." 

Dined  with  Chief-Commissioner,  Admiral  Adam,  W.  Clerk,  Thom- 
son, and  I.  The  excellent  old  man  was  cheerful  at  intervals — at 
times  sad,  as  was  natural.  A  good  blunder  he  told  us,  occurred  in 
the  Annandale  case,  which  was  a  question  partly  of  domicile.  It  was 
proved  that  leaving  Lochwood,  the  Earl  had  given  up  his  kain  and 


90  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

carriages'*  this  an  English  Counsel  contended  was  the  best  of  all 
possible  proofs  that  the  noble  Earl  designed  an  absolute  change  of 
residence,  since  he  laid  aside  his  walking-stick  and  his  coach. 

First  epistle  of  Malachi  is  getting  out  of  print,  or  rather  is  out  of 
print  already. 

March  3. — Could  not  get  the  last  sheets  of  Malachi,  Second 
Epistle,  last  night,  so  they  must  go  out  to  the  world  unconnected — a 
great  loss,  for  the  last  touches  are  always  most  effectual ;  and  I  ex- 
pect misprints  in  the  additional  matter.  We  were  especially  obliged 
to  have  it  out  this  morning,  that  it  may  operate  as  a  gentle  prepara- 
tive for  the  meeting  of  inhabitants  at  two  o'clock.  Vogue  la  galere 
— we  shall  see  if  Scotsmen  have  any  pluck  left.  If  not,  they  may 
kill  the  next  Percy  themselves.  It  is  ridiculous  enough  for  me,  in  a 
state  of  insolvency  for  the  present,  to  be  battling  about  gold  and  pa- 
per currency.  It  is  something  like  the  humorous  touch  in  Hogarth's 
Distressed  Poet,  where  the  poor  starveling  of  the  Muses  is  engaged, 
when  in  the  abyss  of  poverty,  in  writing  an  Essay  on  payment  of  the 
National  Debt ;  and  his  wall  is  adorned  with  a  plan  of  the  mines  of 
Peru.  Nevertheless,  even  these  fugitive  attempts,  from  the  success 
which  they  have  had,  and  the  noise  they  are  making,  serve  to  show 
the  truth  of  the  old  proverb — 

"When  house  and  land  are  gone  and  spent, 
Then  learning  is  most  excellent." 

On  the  whole,  I  am  glad  of  this  brulzie,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned ; 
people  will  not  dare  talk  of  me  as  an  object  of  pity — no  more  "  poor- 
manning."  Who  asks  how  many  punds  Scots  the  old  champion  had 
in  his  pocket  when 

"  He  set  a  bugle  to  his  mouth, 

And  blew  so  loud  and  shrill, 
The  trees  in  greenwood  shook  thereat, 
Sae  loud  rang  ilka  hill"?* 

This  sounds  conceited  enough,  yet  is  not  far  from  truth. 

The  meeting  was  very  numerous,  500  or  600  at  least,  and  unani- 
mous, save  in  one  Mr.  Howden,  who  having  been  all  his  life,  as  I  am 
told,  in  bitter  opposition  to  Ministers,  proposed  on  the  present  occa- 
sion that  the  whole  contested  measure  should  be  trusted  to  their 
wisdom.  I  suppose  he  chose  the  opportunity  of  placing  his  own 
opinion  in  opposition,  single  opposition  too,  to  that  of  a  large  assem- 
bly. The  speaking  was  very  moderate.  Report  had  said  that  Jef- 
frey, J.  A.  Murray,  and  other  sages  of  the  economical  school,  were  to 
unbuckle  their  mails,  and  give  us  their  opinions.  But  no  such  great 

1  Kain  in  Scotch  law  means  payment  in  kind.          *  Ballad  of  Hardyknute,  slightly  altered. — 
Carriages  in  the  same  phraseology  stands  for      j.  o.  L. 
services  in  driving  with  horse  and  cart. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  91 

guns  appeared.  If  they  had,  having  the  multitude  on  my  side,  I 
would  have  tried  to  break  a  lance  with  them.  A  few  short  but  well- 
expressed  resolutions  were  adopted  unanimously.  These  were  pro- 
posed by  Lord  Rollo,  and  seconded  by  Sir  James  Fergusson,  Bart.  I 
was  named  one  of  a  committee  to  encourage  all  sorts  of  opposition  to 
the  measure.  So  I  have  already  broken  through  two  good  and  wise 
resolutions — one,  that  I  would  not  write  on  political  controversy ; 
another,  that  I  would  not  be  named  on  public  committees.  If  my 
good  resolves  go  this  way,  like  snaw  aff  a  dyke — the  Lord  help  me  ! 

March  4. — Last  night  I  had  a  letter  from  Lockhart,  who,  speak- 
ing of  Malachi,  says, "  The  Ministers  are  sore  beyond  imagination  at 
present ;  and  some  of  them,  I  hear,  have  felt  this  new  whip  on  the 
raw  to  some  purpose."  I  conclude  he  means  Canning  is  offended. 
I  can't  help  it,  as  I  said  before — fiat  jus titia,  mat  coelum.  No  cause 
in  which  I  had  the  slightest  personal  interest  should  have  made  me 
use  my  pen  'gainst  them,  blunt  or  pointed  as  it  may  be.  But  as  they 
are  about  to  throw  this  country  into  distress  and  danger,  by  a  meas- 
ure of  useless  and  uncalled-for  experiment,  they  must  hear  the  opin- 
ion of  the  Scotsmen,  to  whom  it  is  of  no  other  consequence  than  as 
a  general  measure  affecting  the  country  at  large, — and  mine  they 
shall  hear.  I  had  determined  to  lay  down  the  pen.  But  now  they 
shall  have  another  of  Malachi,  beginning  with  buffoonery,  and  ending 
as  seriously  as  I  can  write  it.  It  is  like  a  frenzy  that  they  will  agi- 
tate the  upper  and  middling  classes  of  society,  so  very  friendly  to 
them,  with  unnecessary  and  hazardous  [projects]. 

"  Oh,  thus  it  was  they  loved  them  dear, 

And  sought  how  to  requite  'em, 

And  having  no  friends  left  but  they, 

They  did  resolve  to  fight  them." 

The  country  is  very  high  just  now.  England  may  carry  the  meas- 
ure if  she  will,  doubtless.  But  what  will  be  the  consequence  of  the 
distress  ensuing,  God  only  can  foretell. 

Lockhart,  moreover,  inquires  about  my  affairs  anxiously,  and  asks 
what  he  is  to  say  about  them ;  says,  "  He  has  inquiries  every  day ; 
kind,  most  kind  all,  and  among  the  most  interested  and  anxious,  Sir 
William  Knighton,1  who  told  me  the  King  was  quite  melancholy  all 
the  evening  he  heard  of  it."  This  I  can  well  believe,  for  the  King, 
educated  as  a  prince,  has,  nevertheless,  as  true  and  kind  a  heart  as 
any  subject  in  his  dominions.  He  goes  on :  "I  do  think  they  would 
give  you  a  Baron's  gown  as  soon  as  possible,"  etc.  I  have  written  to 
him  in  answer,  showing  I  have  enough  to  carry  me  on,  and  can  dedi- 
cate my  literary  efforts  to  clear  my  land.  The  preferment  would  suit 
me  well,  and  the  late  Duke  of  Buccleuch  gave  me  his  interest  for  it. 

1  Sir  W.  Knighton  was  Physician  and  Private      King.    Sir  William  died  in  1836 ;  his  Memoirt 
Secretary  to  George  iv.     Rogers  (Table-Talk,  p.      were  published  in  1838,  edited  by  his  widow 
289)  says  no  one  had  more  influence  with  the 


92  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

I  dare  say  the  young  duke  would  do  the  same,  for  the  unvaried  love 
I  have  borne  his  house ;  and  by  and  by  he  will  have  a  voice  poten- 
tial. But  there  is  Sir  William  Rae  in  the  meantime,  whose  prevailing 
claim  I  would  never  place  my  own  in  opposition  to,  even  were  it  pos- 
sible by  a  tour  de  force,  such  as  L.  points  at,  to  set  it  aside.  Mean- 
time, I  am  building  a  barrier  betwixt  me  and  promotion.  Any  pros- 
pect of  the  kind  is  very  distant  and  very  uncertain.  Come  time,  come 
rath,  as  the  German  says. 

In  the  meanwhile,  now  I  am  not  pulled  about  for  money,  etc., 
methinks  I  am  happier  without  my  wealth  than  with  it.  Everything 
is  paid.  I  have  no  one  wishing  to  make  up  a  sum  of  money,  and 
writing  for  his  account  to  be  paid.  Since  1 7th  January  I  have  not 
laid  out  a  guinea,  out  of  my  own  hand,  save  two  or  three  in  charity, 
and  six  shillings  for  a  pocket-book.  But  the  cash  with  which  I  set 
out  having  run  short  for  family  expenses  I  drew  on  Blackwood, 
through  Ballantyne,  which  was  honoured,  for  £25,  to  account  of  Mal- 
achfs  Letters,  of  which  another  edition  of  1000  is  ordered,  and  gave 
it  to  Lady  Scott,  because  our  removal  will  require  that  in  hand.  This 
is  for  a  fortnight  succeeding  Wednesday  next,  being  the  8th  March 
current.  On  the  20th  my  quarter  comes  in,  and  though  I  have  some- 
thing to  pay  out  of  it,  I  shall  be  on  velvet  for  expense — and  regular 
I  will  be.  Methinks  all  trifling  objects  of  expenditure  seem  to  grow 
light  in  my  eyes.  That  I  may  regain  independence,  I  must  be  saving. 
But  ambition  awakes,  as  love  of  quiet  indulgence  dies  and  is  morti- 
fied within  me.  "  Dark  Cuthullin  will  be  renowned  or  dead."1 

March  5. — Something  of  toddy  and  cigar  in  that  last  quotation, 
I  think.  Yet  I  only  smoked  two,  and  liquefied  with  one  glass  of  spir- 
its and  water.  I  have  sworn  I  will  not  blot  out  what  I  have  once 
written  here. 

Malachi  goes  on,  but  I  am  dubious  about  the  commencement — it 
must  be  mended  at  least — reads  prosy. 

Had  letters  from  Walter  and  Jane,  the  dears.  All  well.  Regi- 
ment about  to  move  from  Dublin. 

March  6. — Finished  third  Malachi,  which  I  don't  much  like.  It 
respects  the  difficulty  of  finding  gold  to  replace  the  paper  circulation. 
Now  this  should  have  been  considered  first.  The  admitting  that  the 
measure  may  be  imposed  is  yielding  up  the  question,  and  Malachi  is 
like  a  commandant  who  should  begin  to  fire  from  interior  defences 
before  his  outworks  were  carried.  If  Ballantyne  be  of  my  own  opin- 
ion I  will  suppress  it.  We  are  all  in  a  bustle  shifting  things  to  Ab- 
botsford.  I  believe  we  shall  stay  here  till  the  beginning  of  next 
week.  It  is  odd,  but  I  don't  feel  the  impatience  for  the  country 
which  I  have  usually  experienced. 

March  1. — Detained  in  the  Court  till  three  by  a  hearing.  Then 
to  the  Committee  appointed  at  the  meeting  on  Friday,  to  look  after 

>  Ossiaa— J.  O.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  93 

the  small-note  business.  A  pack  of  old  faineants,  incapable  of  man- 
aging such  a  business,  and  who  will  lose  the  day  from  mere  coldness 
of  heart.  There  are  about  a  thousand  names  at  the  petition.  They 
have  added  no  designations — a  great  blunder ;  for  testimonia  sunt 
ponderanda,  non  numeranda  should  never  be  lost  sight  of.  They  are 
disconcerted  and  helpless ;  just  as  in  the  business  of  the  King's  visit, 
when  everybody  threw  the  weight  on  me,  for  which  I  suffered  much 
in  my  immediate  labour,  and  after  bad  health  it  brought  on  a  violent 
eruption  on  my  skin,  which  saved  me  from  a  fever  at  the  time,  but 
has  been  troublesome  more  or  less  ever  since.  I  was  so  disgusted 
with  seeing  them  sitting  in  ineffectual  helplessness  spitting  on  the 
hot  iron  that  lay  before  them,  and  touching  it  with  a  timid  finger,  as 
if  afraid  of  being  scalded,  that  at  another  time  I  might  have  dashed 
in  and  taken  up  the  hammer,  summoned  the  deacons  and  other  heads 
of  public  bodies,  and  by  consulting  them  have  carried  them  with  me. 
But  I  cannot  waste  my  time,  health,  and  spirits  in  fighting  thankless 
battles.  I  left  them  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  presage,  unless  the 
country  make  an  alarm,  the  cause  is  lost.  The  philosophical  review- 
ers manage  their  affairs  better — hold  off — avoid  committing  them- 
selves, but  throw  their  vis  inertice  into  the  opposite  scale,  and  neutral- 
ise the  feelings  which  they  cannot  combat.  To  force  them  to  fight 
on  disadvantageous  ground  is  our  policy.  But  we  have  more  sneak- 
ers after  Ministerial  favour  than  men  who  love  their  country,  and  who 
upon  a  liberal  scale  would  serve  their  party.  For  to  force  the  Whigs 
to  avow  an  unpopular  doctrine  in  popular  assemblies,  or  to  wrench 
the  government  of  such  bodies  from  them,  would  be  a  coup  de  maitre. 
But  they  are  alike  destitute  of  manly  resolution  and  sound  policy. 
D — n  the  whole  nest  of  them  !  I  have  corrected  the  last  of  Malachi, 
and  let  the  thing  take  its  chance.  I  have  made  enemies  enough,  and 
indisposed  enough  of  friends. 

March  8. — At  the  Court,  though  a  teind  day.  A  foolish  thing 
happened  while  the  Court  were  engaged  with  the  teinds.  I  amused 
myself  with  writing  on  a  sheet  of  paper  notes  of  Frederick  Maitland's 
account  of  the  capture  of  Bonaparte ;  and  I  have  lost  these  notes — 
shuffled  in  perhaps  among  my  own  papers,  or  those  of  the  teind 
clerks.  What  a  curious  document  to  be  found  in  a  process  of  valu- 
ation ! 

Being  jaded  and  sleepy,  I  took  up  Le  Due  de  Guise  on  Naples.1 
I  think  this,  with  the  old  Memoires  on  the  same  subject  which  I  have 
at  Abbotsford,  would  enable  me  to  make  a  pretty  essay  for  the  Quar- 
terly. We  must  take  up  Woodstock  now  in  good  earnest.  Mr.  Cowan, 
a  good  and  able  man,  is  chosen  trustee  in  Constable's  affairs,  with 
full  power.  From  what  I  hear,  the  poor  man  is  not  sensible  of  the 

i  Pastoret:  Le  Due  de  Guise  d  Naples,  etc.,  "The  Reviewal  then  meditated  was  after- 
era  1617  et  1648.  8vo,  1825;  also  Memoires  re-  wards  published  in  Foreign  Quarterly  Review, 
lating  his  passage  to  Naples  and  heading  the  vol.  iv.  p.  355,  but  not  included  in  the  Misc. 
Second  Revolt  of  that  people.  Englished,  sm.  Prose  Works. " — Abbotsford  Library  Catalogue, 
8vo,  1669.  p.  36. 


04  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

nature  of  his  own  situation ;  for  myself,  I  have  succeeded  in  putting 
the  matters  perfectly  out  of  my  mind  since  I  cannot  help  them,  and 
have  arrived  at  aflocci-pauci-nihili-pili-flcation  of  money,  and  I  thank 
Shenstone  for  inventing  that  long  word.1  They  are  removing  the 
wine,  etc.,  to  the  carts,  and  you  will  judge  if  our  flitting  is  not  mak- 
ing a  noise  in  the  world — or  in  the  street  at  least. 
March  9. — I  foresaw  justly, 

"  When  first  I  set  this  dangerous  stone  a-rolling, 
'Twould  fall  upon  myself."* 

Sir  Robert  Dundas  to-day  put  into  my  hands  a  letter  of  between 
thirty  and  forty  pages,  in  angry  and  bitter  reprobation  of  Malachi, 
full  of  general  averments  and  very  untenable  arguments,  all  written 
at  me  by  name,  but  of  which  I  am  to  have  no  copy,  and  which  is  to 
be  shown  to  me  in  extenso,  and  circulated  to  other  special  friends,  to 
whom  it  may  be  necessary  to  "give  the  sign  to  hate."3  I  got  it  at 
two  o'clock,  and  returned  [it]  with  an  answer  four  hours  afterwards, 
in  which  I  have  studied  not  to  be  tempted  into  either  sarcastic  or 
harsh  expressions.4  A  quarrel  it  is  however,  in  all  the  forms,  between 
my  old  friend  and  myself,  and  his  lordship's  reprimand  is  to  be  read 
out  in  order  to  all  our  friends.  They  all  know  what  I  have  said  is 
true,  but  that  will  be  nothing  to  the  purpose  if  they  are  desired  to 
consider  it  as  false.  As  for  Lord  Melville,  I  do  not  wonder  that  he 
is  angry,  though  he  has  little  reason,  for  he,  our  watchman  stented,  has 
from  time  to  time  suffered  all  manner  of  tampering  to  go  on  under 
his  nose  with  the  institutions  and  habits  of  Scotland.  As  for  myself, 
I  was  quite  prepared  for  my  share  of  displeasure.  It  is  very  curious 
that  I  should  have  foreseen  all  this  so  distinctly  as  far  back  as  17th 
February.  Nobody  at  least  can  plague  me  for  interest  with  Lord 
Melville  as  they  used  to  do.  By  the  way,  from  the  tone  of  his  letter, 
I  think  his  lordship  will  give  up  the  measure,  and  I  will  be  the  peace- 
offering.  All  will  agree  to  condemn  me  as  too  warm — too  rash — and 
get  rich  on  privileges  which  they  would  not  have  been  able  to  save 
but  for  a  little  rousing  of  spirit,  which  will  not  perhaps  fall  asleep 
again.6  A  gentleman  called  on  the  part  of  a  Captain  [Rutherford], 
to  make  inquiry  about  the  Border  Rutherfords.  Not  being  very 
cleever,  as  John  Fraser  used  to  say,  at  these  pedigree  matters,  referred 
him  to  Mrs.  Dr.  Russell  and  Robt.  Rutherford.  The  noble  Captain 
conceits  he  has  some  title  to  the  honours  of  Lord  Rutherford.  Very 

1  W.  Shenstone's  Essayi  (1765),  p.  115,  or          «  See  Arniston  Memoirs,  8vo,  Edin.  1888,  for 

Works  (1764-69),  vol.  iii.  p.  49.  text  of  Lord  Melville's  letter  and  Sir  Walter's 

I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  J.  A.  H.  Murray  for  this  reply,  pp.  315-326. 
reference,  which  he  kindly  supplied  from  the 

materials  for  his  great  English  Dictionary  on          6  "Seldom  has  any  political  measure  called 

Historical  Principles.  forth  so  strong  and  so  universal  an  expression 

a  King  Henry  VIII.,  Act  v.  Sc.  2,  slightly  al-  of  public  opinion.     In  every  city  and  in  every 

tered. — t.  o.  L.  county  public  meetings  were  held  to  deprecate 

3  "Watch  the  sign   to  hate."  —  Johnson's  the  destruction  of  the  one  pound  and  guinea 

Vanity  of  Human  Wishes,  notes."— Annual  Register  (1826),  p.  24, 


1826.]  JOURNAL  95 

odd — when  there  is  a  vacant  or  dormant  title  in  a  Scottish  family  or 
name,  everybody,  and  all  connected  with  the  clan,  conceive  they  have 
quodam  modo  a  right  to  it.  Not  being  engrossed  by  any  individual, 
it  communicates  part  of  its  lustre  to  every  individual  in  the  tribe,  as 
if  it  remained  in  common  stock  for  that  purpose. 

March  10. — I  am  not  made  entirely  in  the  same  mould  of  passions 
like  other  people.  Many  men  would  deeply  regret  a  breach  with  so 
old  a  friend  as  Lord  Melville,  and  many  men  would  be  in  despair  at 
losing  the  good  graces  of  a  Minister  of  State  for  Scotland,  and  all 
pretty  visions  about  what  might  be  done  for  myself  and  my  sons, 
especially  Charles.  But  I  think  my  good  lord  doth  ill  to  be  angry, 
like  the  patriarch  of  old,  and  I  have,  in  my  odd  sans  souciance  char- 
acter, a  good  handful  of  meal  from  the  grist  of  the  Jolly  Miller,  who 

"Once 

Dwelled  on  the  river  Dee ; 
I  care  for  nobody,  no,  not  I, 
Since  nobody  cares  for  me." 

Breakfasted  with  me  Mr.  Franks,  a  young  Irishman  from  Dublin,  who 
brought  letters  from  Walter  and  Captain  Longmore  of  the  Royal 
Staff.  He  has  written  a  book  of  poetry,  Tales  of  Chivalry  and  Ro- 
mance, far  from  bad,  yet  wants  spirit.  He  talks  of  publishing  his 
recollections  in  the  Peninsula,  which  must  be  interesting,  for  he  has, 
I  think,  sense  and  reflection. 

Sandie  Young1  came  in  nt  breakfast-time  with  a  Monsieur  Brocque 
of  Montpelier. 

Saw  Sir  Robert  Dundas  at  Court,  who  condemns  Lord  Melville, 
and  says  he  will  not  show  his  letter  to  any  one ;  in  fact  it  would  be 
exactly  placarding  me  in  a  private  and  confidential  manner.  He  is 
to  send  my  letter  to  Lord  Melville.  Colin  Mackenzie  concurs  in 
thinking  Lord  Melville  quite  wrong.  "He  must  cool  in  the  skin  he 
het  in" 

On  coming  home  from  the  Court  a  good  deal  fatigued,  I  took  a  nap 
in  my  easy-chair,  then  packed  my  books,  and  committed  the  refuse 
to  Jock  Stevenson — 

"  Left  not  a  limb  on  which  a  Dane  could  triumph." 

Gave  Mr.  Gibson  my  father's  cabinet,  which  suits  a  man  of  business 
well.  Gave  Jock  Stevenson  the  picture  of  my  old  favourite  dog 
Camp,  mentioned  in  one  of  the  introductions  to  Marmion,  and  a  lit- 
tle crow-quill  drawing  of  Melrose  Abbey  by  Nelson,  whom  I  used  to 
call  the  Admiral.  Poor  fellow  !  he  had  some  ingenuity,  and  was,  in  a 
moderate  way,  a  good  penman  and  draughtsman.  He  left  his  situa- 
tion of  amanuensis  to  go  into  Lord  Home's  militia  regiment,  but  his 

1  Alex.  Young  of  Harburn,  a  steady  Whig  of  the  old  school,  and  a  steady  and  esteemed  friend 
of  Sir  Walter'?.— J.  o.  i. 


96  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

dissipated  habits  got  the  better  of  a  strong  constitution,  and  he  fell 
into  bad  ways  and  poverty,  and  died,  I  believe,  in  the  hospital  at 
Liverpool.  Strange  enough  that  Henry  Weber,  who  acted  afterwards 
as  my  amanuensis  for  many  years,  had  also  a  melancholy  fate  ulti- 
mately. He  was  a  man  of  very  superior  attainments,  an  excellent 
linguist  and  geographer,  and  a.  remarkable  antiquary.  He  published 
a  collection  of  ancient  Romances,  superior,  I  think,  to  the  elaborate 
Ritson.  He  also  published  an  edition  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  but 
too  carelessly  done  to  be  reputable.  He  was  a  violent  Jacobin,  which 
he  thought  he  disguised  from  me,  while  I,  who  cared  not  a  fig  about 
the  poor  young  man's  politics,  used  to  amuse  myself  with  teasing  him. 
He  was  an  excellent  and  affectionate  creature,  but  unhappily  was  afflict- 
ed with  partial  insanity,  especially  if  he  used  strong  liquors,  to  which, 
like  others  with  that  unhappy  tendency,  he  was  occasionally  addicted. 
In  1814'  he  became  quite  insane,  and,  at  the  risk  of  my  life,  I  had  to 
disarm  him  of  a  pair  of  loaded  pistols,  which  I  did  by  exerting  the 
sort  of  authority  which,  I  believe,  gives  an  effectual  control  in  such 
cases.  His  friends,  who  were  respectable,  placed  him  in  the  York 
Asylum,  where  he  pined  away  and  died,  I  think,  in  1814  or  1815." 
My  patronage  in  this  way  has  not  been  lucky  to  the  parties  protected. 
I  hope  poor  George  Huntly  Gordon  will  escape  the  influence  of  the 
evil  star.  He  has  no  vice,  poor  fellow,  but  his  total  deafness  makes 
him  helpless. 

March  11. — This  day  the  Court  rose  after  a  long  and  laborious 
sederunt.  I  employed  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  completing  a  set 
of  notes  on  Captain  Maitland's  manuscript  narrative  of  the  reception 
of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  on  board  the  Bellerophon.  It  had  been  pre- 
viously in  the  hands  of  my  friend  Basil  Hall,  who  had  made  many  ex- 
cellent corrections  in  point  of  style  ;  but  he  had  been  hypercritical  in 
wishing  (in  so  important  a  matter  where  everything  depends  on  accu- 
racy) this  expression  to  be  altered  for  delicacy's  sake, — that  to  be 
omitted  for  fear  of  giving  offence, — and  that  other  to  be  abridged  for 
fear  of  being  tedious.  The  plain  sailor's  narrative  for  me,  written  on 
the  spot,  and  bearing  in  its  minuteness  the  evidence  of  its  veracity. 

Lord  Elgin  sent  me,  some  time  since,  a  curious  account  of  his  im- 
prisonment in  France,  and  the  attempts  which  were  made  to  draw 
him  into  some  intrigue  which  might  authorise  treating  him  with 
rigour.8  He  called  to-day  and  communicated  some  curious  circum- 
stances, on  the  authority  of  Fouche,  Denon,  and  others,  respecting 
Bonaparte  and  the  empress  Maria  Louise,  whom  Lord  Elgin  had  con- 
versed with  on  the  subject  in  Italy.  His  conduct  towards  her  was 
something  like  that  of-  Ethwald  to  Elburga,  in  Joanna  Baillie's  fine 
tragedy,4  making  her  postpone  her  high  rank  by  birth  to  the  authority 

»  See  Life,  vol.  iv.  pp.  146-148.  3  See  Life  of  Bonaparte.    Miscellaneous  Prose 

Works,  vol.  xi.  pp.  346-351 j.  o.  L. 

4  Plays  on  the  Passions,  2  vols.  8vo,  Lond. 
«  Henry  Weber  died  in  1818.  1802,  vol.  ii.  pp.  211-215. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  97 

which  he  had  acquired  by  his  talents.  Dinner  was  usually  announced 
for  a  particular  hour,  and  Napoleon's  business  often  made  him  late. 
She  was  not  permitted  to  sit  down  to  table,  an  etiquette  which  was 
reasonable  enough.  But  from  the  hour  of  dinner  till  the  Emperor 
appeared  she  was  to  be  in  the  act  of  sitting  down ;  that  is  to  say,  he 
was  displeased  if  he  found  her  engaged  with  a  book,  with  work,  or 
with  anything  else.  She  was  obliged  to  be  in  a  state  of  absolute 
"  being  about  to  sit  down."  She  seemed  a  good  deal  genee  by  some- 
thing of  that  kind,  though  remembering  with  pride  she  had  been 
Empress,  it  might  almost  be  said  of  the  world.  The  rest  for  to- 
morrow. 

March  12. — Resumed  Woodstock,  and  wrote  my  task  of  six  pages. 
I  was  interrupted  by  a  slumberous  feeling  which  made  me  obliged 
to  stop  once  or  twice.  I  shall  soon  have  a  remedy  in  the  country, 
which  affords  the  pleasanter  resource  of  a  walk  when  such  feelings 
come  on.  I  hope  I  am  the  reverse  of  the  well-known  line,  "  sleepy 
myself,  to  give  my  readers  sleep."  I  cannot  gurnalise  at  any  rate, 
having  wrought  my  eyes  nearly  out.1 

March  13. — Wrote  to  the  end  of  a  chapter,  and  knowing  no  more 
than  the  man  in  the  moon  what  comes  next,  I  will  put  down  a  few 
of  Lord  Elgin's  remembrances,  and  something  may  occur  to  me  in 
the  meanwhile.  When  M[aria]  Louise  first  saw  B[onaparte],  she 
was  in  the  carriage  with  his  representative  general,  when  she  saw  a 
horseman  ride  forward  at  the  gallop,  passing  and  repassing  the  car- 
riage in  a  manner  which,  joined  to  the  behaviour  of  her  companion, 
convinced  her  who  it  was,  especially  as  he  endeavoured,  with  a  curi- 
osity which  would  not  have  been  tolerated  in  another,  to  peep  into 
the  windows.  When  she  alighted  at  the  inn  at ,  Napoleon  pre- 
sented himself,  pulled  her  by  the  ear,  and  kissed  her  forehead. 

Bonaparte's  happiest  days  passed  away  when  he  dismissed  from 
about  him  such  men  as  Talleyrand  and  Fouche,  whose  questions  and 
objections  compelled  him  to  recur  upon,  modify,  and  render  practica- 
ble the  great  plans  which  his  ardent  conception  struck  out  at  a  heat. 
When  he  had  Murat  and  such  persons  about  him,  who  marvelled  and 
obeyed,  his  schemes,  equally  magnificent,  were  not  so  well  matured, 
and  ended  in  the  projector's  ruin. 

I  have  hinted  in  these  notes  that  I  am  not  entirely  free  from  a 
sort  of  gloomy  fits,  with  a  fluttering  of  the  heart  and  depression  of 

1  He  had,  however,  snatched  a  moment  to  favourite  of  mine,  from  the  humorous  corre- 

write  the  following  playful  note  to  Mr.  Sharpe,  spondence  between  Mr.  Mountebank's  face  and 

little  dreaming  that  the  sportive  allusion  to  his  the  monkey's.    I  leave  town  to-day  or  to-mor- 

return  in  May  would  be  so  sadly  realised: —  row  at  furthest.     When  I  return  in  May  I 

"  MY  DEAR  CHARLES, — You  promised  when  I  shall  be 

displenished  this  house  that  you  would  accept  Bachelor  Bluff,  bachelor  Bluff, 

of  the  prints  of  Roman  antiquities,  which  I  now  Hey  for  a  teart  that's  rugged  and  tough, 

send.    I  believe  they  were  once  in  some  es-  I  shall  have  a  beefsteak  and  a  bottle  of  wine  ol 

teem,  though  now  so  detestably  smoked  that  a  Sunday,  which  I  hope  you  will  often  take 

they  will  only  suit  your  suburban  villa  in  the  share  of,— Being  with  warm  regard  always 

Cowgate  when  you  remove  to  that  classical  yours,  WALTER  SCOTT.  "— Sharpe's  Correspond- 

residence.    I  also  send  a  print  which  is  an  old  ence,  vol.  ii.  pp.  359-60. 

V 


98  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

spirits,  just  as  if  I  knew  not  what  was  going  to  befall  me.  I  can 
sometimes  resist  this  successfully,  but  it  is  better  to  evade  than  to 
combat  it.  The  hang-dog  spirit  may  have  originated  in  the  confu- 
sion and  chucking  about  of  our  old  furniture,  the  stripping  of  walls 
of  pictures,  and  rooms  of  ornaments ;  the  leaving  a  house  we  have  so 
long  called  our  home  is  altogether  melancholy  enough.  I  am  glad 
Lady  S.  does  not  mind  it,  and  yet  I  wonder,  too.  She  insists  on  my 
remaining  till  Wednesday,  not  knowing  what  I  suffer.  Meanwhile, 
to  make  my  recusant  spirit  do  penance,  I  have  set  to  work  to  clear 
away  papers  and  pack  them  for  my  journey.  What  a  strange  med- 
ley of  thoughts  such  a  task  produces !  There  lie  letters  which  made 
the  heart  throb  when  received,  now  lifeless  and  uninteresting — as  are 
perhaps  their  owners.  Riddles  which  time  has  read — schemes  which 
he  has  destroyed  or  brought  to  maturity — memorials  of  friendships 
and  enmities  which  are  now  alike  faded.  Thus  does  the  ring  of 
Saturn  consume  itself.  To-day  annihilates  yesterday,  as  the  old  ty- 
rant swallowed  his  children,  and  the  snake  its  tail.  But  I  must  say 
to  my  Gurtial  as  poor  Byron  did  to  Moore,  "  Damn  it,  Tom,  don't  be 
poetical." 

Memorandum. — I  received  some  time  since  from  Mr.  Riddoch,  of 
Falkirk,  a  sort  of  iron  mallet,  said  to  have  been  found  in  the  ruins 
of  Grame's  Dike ;  there  it  was  reclaimed  about  three  months  since 
by  the  gentleman  on  whose  lands  it  was  found,  a  Doctor — by  a  very 
polite  letter  from  his  man  of  business.  Having  unluckily  mislaid 
his  letter,  and  being  totally  unable  either  to  recollect  the  name  of  the 
proprietor  or  the  professional  gentleman,  I  returned  this  day  the  piece 
of  antiquity  to  Mr.  Riddoch,  who  sent  it  to  me.  Wrote  at  the  same 
time  to  Tom  Grahame  of  Airth,  mentioning  what  I  had  done.  "  Touch 
my  honour,  touch  my  life — there  is  the  spoon."  ' 

March  14. — J.  B.  called  this  morning  to  take  leave,  and  receive 
directions  about  proofs,  etc.  Talks  of  the  uproar  about  Malar///  \ 
but  I  am  tired  of  Malacki — the  humour  is  off,  and  I  have  said  what  I 
wanted  to  say,  and  put  the  people  of  Scotland  on  their  guard,  as  well 
as  Ministers,  if  they  like  to  be  warned.  They  are  gradually  destroy- 
ing what  remains  of  nationality,  and  making  the  country  tabula  r<i*n 
for  doctrines  of  bold  innovation.  Their  loosening  and  grinding  down 
all  those  peculiarities  which  distinguished  us  as  Scotsmen  will  throw 
the  country  into  a  state  in  which  it  will  be  universally  turned  to 
democracy,  and  instead  of  canny  Saunders,  they  will  have  a  very  dan- 
gerous North  British  neighbourhood. 

Some  [English]  lawyer  expressed  to  Lord  Elibank  an  opinion,  that 
at  the  Union  the  English  law  should  have  been  extended  all  over 
Scotland.  "  I  cannot  say  how  that  might  have  answered  our  purpose," 

i  Apropos  of  the  old  Scotch  lady  who  had  cion  resting  on  her,  she  was  asked  to  allow 

surreptitiously  pocketed  a  silver  spoon,  one  of  her  person  to  be  searched,  but  she  indignantly 

a  set  of  a  dozen  which  were  being  passed  round  produced  the  article,  with  "Touch  my  hon- 

for  examination  in  an  auction  room.    Suspi-  our,"  etc. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  99 

said  Lord  Patrick,  who  was  never  nonsuited  for  want  of  an  answer, 
"  but  it  would  scarce  have  suited  yours,  since  by  this  time  the  Aber- 
deen Advocates1  would  have  possessed  themselves  of  all  the  business 
in  Westminster  Hall." 

What  a  detestable  feeling  this  fluttering  of  the  heart  is  !  I  know 
it  is  nothing  organic,  and  that  it  is  entirely  nervous  ;  but  the  sicken- 
ing effects  of  it  are  dispiriting  to  a  degree.  Is  it  the  body  brings  it 
on  the  mind,  or  the  mind  that  inflicts  it  upon  the  body  ?  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  it  is  a  severe  price  to  pay  for  the  Fata  Morgana  with  which 
Fancy  sometimes  amuses  men  of  warm  imaginations.  As  to  body  and 
mind,  I  fancy  I  might  as  well  inquire  whether  the  fiddle  or  fiddlestick 
makes  the  tune.  In  youth  this  complaint  used  to  throw  me  into  invol- 
untary passions  of  causeless  tears.  But  I  will  drive  it  away  in  the 
country  by  exercise.  I  wish  I  had  been  a  mechanic  :  a  turning-lathe 
or  a  chest  of  tools  would  have  been  a  God-send;  for  thought  makes 
the  access  of  melancholy  rather  worse  than  better.  I  have  it  sel- 
dom, thank  God,  and,  I  believe,  lightly,  in  comparison  of  others. 

It  was  the  fiddle  after  all  was  out  of  order,  not  the  fiddlestick ; 
the  body,  not  the  mind.  I  walked  out ;  met  Mrs.  Skene,  who  took 
a  turn  with  me  in  Princes  Street.  Bade  Constable  and  Cadell  fare- 
well, and  had  a  brisk  walk  home,  which  enables  me  to  face  the 
desolation  here  with  more  spirit.  News  from  Sophia.  She  has  had 
the  luck  to  get  an  anti-druggist  in  a  Dr.  Gooch,  who  prescribes  care 
for  Johnnie  instead  of  drugs,  and  a  little  home-brewed  ale  instead  of 
wine ;  and,  like  a  liberal  physician,  supplies  the  medicine  he  prescribes. 
As  for  myself,  while  I  have  scarce  stirred  to  take  exercise  for  four  or 
five  days,  no  wonder  I  had  the  mulligrubs.  It  is  an  awful  sensation 
though,  and  would  have  made  an  enthusiast  of  me,  had  I  indulged  my 
imagination  on  devotional  subjects.  I  have  been  always  careful  to 
place  my  mind  in  the  most  tranquil  posture  which  it  can  assume 
during  my  private  exercises  of  devotion. 

I  have  amused  myself  occasionally  very  pleasantly  during  the  last 
few  days,  by  reading  over  Lady  Morgan's  novel  of  (yDonnel?  which 
has  some  striking  and  beautiful  passages  of  situation  and  description, 
and  in  the  comic  part  is  very  rich  and  entertaining.  I  do  not  remem- 
ber being  so  much  pleased  with  it  at  first.  There  is  a  want  of  story, 
always  fatal  to  a  book  the  first  reading — and  it  is  well  if  it  gets  a 
chance  of  a  second.  Alas !  poor  novel !  Also  read  again,  and  for 
the  third  time  at  least,  Miss  Austen's  very  finely  written  novel  of 
Pride  and  Prejudice.  That  young  lady  had  a  talent  for  describing 
the  involvements  and  feelings  and  characters  of  ordinary  life,  which 
is  to  me  the  most  wonderful  I  ever  met  with.  The  Big  Bow-wow 
strain  I  can  do  myself  like  any  now  going ;  but  the  exquisite  touch, 

1  The  Attorneys  of  Aberdeen  are  styled  advo-  the  same  time  as  Waverley.  Had  it  contained 

cates.  This  valuable  privilege  is  said  to  have  nothing  else  than  the  sketch  of  Bran,  the  great 

been  bestowed  at  an  early  period  by  some  Irish  wolf-hound,  it  would  have  commended 

(sportive)  monarch.— j.  G.  L.  itself  to  Scott  The  authoress  died  in  1859. 

3  This  clever  book  was  published  in  1814  at 


100  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

which  renders  ordinary  commonplace  things  and  characters  interest- 
ing, from  the  truth  of  the  description  and  the  sentiment,  is  denied  to 
me.  What  a  pity  such  a  gifted  creature  died  so  early ! ' 

March  15. — This  morning  I  leave  No.  39  Castle  Street,  for  the 
last  time.  "The  cabin  was  convenient,"  and  habit  had  made  it 
agreeable  to  me.  I  never  reckoned  upon  a  change  in  this  particular 
so  long  as  I  held  an  office  in  the  Court  of  Session.  In  all  my  former 
changes  of  residence  it  was  from  good  to  better ;  this  is  retrograd- 
ing. I  leave  this  house  for  sale,  and  I  cease  to  be  an  Edinburgh 
citi/en,  in  the  sense  of  being  a  proprietor,  which  my  father  and  I 
have  been  for  sixty  years  at  least.  So  farewell,  poor  39,  and  may 
you  never  harbour  worse  people  than  those  who  now  leave  you  !  Not 
to  desert  the  Lares  all  at  once,  Lady  S.  and  Anne  remain  till  Sunday. 
As  for  me,  I  go,  as  aforesaid,  this  morning. 

"Ha  til  mi  tulidh'! "2 

Abbotsford,  9  at  night. — The  naturally  unpleasant  feelings  which 
influenced  me  in  my  ejectment,  for  such  it  is  virtually,  readily  evap- 
orated in  the  course  of  the  journey,  though  I  had  no  pleasanter  com- 
panions than  Mrs.  Mackay,  the  house-keeper,  and  one  of  the  maids ; 
and  I  have  a  shyness  of  disposition,  which  looks  like  pride,  but  it  is 
not,  which  makes  me  awkward  in  speaking  to  my  household  domes- 
tics. With  an  out-of-doors  labourer,  or  an  old  woman  gathering 
sticks,  I  can  talk  for  ever.  I  was  welcomed  here  on  my  arrival  by 
the  tumult,  great  of  men  and  dogs,  all  happy  to  see  me.  One  of  my 
old  labourers  killed  by  the  fall  of  a  stone  working  at  Gattonside 
Bridge.  Old  Will  Straiton,  my  man  of  wisdom  and  proverbs,  also 
dead.  He  was  entertaining  from  his  importance  and  self-conceit,  but 
really  a  sensible  old  man.  When  he  heard  of  my  misfortunes,  he 
went  to  bed,  and  said  he  would  not  rise  again,  and  kept  his  word. 
He  was  very  infirm  when  I  last  saw  him.  Tom  Purdie  in  great  glory, 
being  released  from  all  farm  duty,  and  destined  to  attend  the  woods, 
and  be  my  special  assistant.  The  gardener  Bogie  is  to  take  care  of 
what  small  farm  we  have  left,  which  little  would  make  me  give  up 
entirely. 

March  16. — Pleasant  days  make  short  Journals,  and  I  have  little 
to  say  to-day.  I  wrote  in  the  morning  at  Woodstock ;  walked  from 
one  till  four ;  was  down  at  Huntly  Burn  and  paid  my  respects  to  the 
ladies.  The  spring  seems  promising,  and  everything  in  great  order. 
Visited  Will  Straiton's  widow,  who  squeezed  out  among  many  tears 
a  petition  for  a  house.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  let  her  have  one,  as 

'  It  is  worth  noting  that  a  quarter  of  a  cen-  the  27th  No.  of  the  Quarterly.     She  died  in 

tury  after  Sir  Walter  had  written  these  lines,  1817. 
we  find  Macaulay  stating  that,  in  his  opinion, 

"  there  are  in  the  world  no  compositions  which  a  "I  return  no  more,"— see  Mackrimmon'i 

approach  nearer  perfection."  Lament  by  Scott. — Poetical  Works,  vol.  xi.  p. 

Scott  had  already  criticised  Miss  Austen  in  332. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  101 

she  has  a  bad  temper,  but  I  will  help  her  otherwise  ;  she  is  greedy 
besides,  as  was  the  defunct  philosopher  William.  In  a  year  or  two  I 
shall  have  on  the  toft  field  a  gallant  show  of  extensive  woodland, 
sweeping  over  the  hill,  and  its  boundaries  carefully  concealed.  In 
the  evening,  after  dinner,  read  Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith's  novel  of  Des- 
mond1— decidedly  the  worst  of  her  compositions. 

March  1 7. — Sent  off  a  packet  to  J.  B. ;  only  three  pages  copy,  so 
must  work  hard  for  a  day  or  two.  I  wish  I  could  wind  up  my  bot- 
tom handsomely  —  an  odd  but  accredited  phrase.  The  conclusion 
will  be  luminous ;  we  must  try  to  make  it  dashing.  Go  spin,  you 
jade,  go  spin.  Have  a  good  deal  to  do  between-hands,  in  sorting  up 
the  newly  arrived  accession  of  books. 

I  need  not  have  exulted  so  soon  in  having  attained  ease  and 
quiet.  I  am  robbed  of  both  with  a  vengeance.  A  letter  from  Lock- 
hart,  with  one  enclosed  from  Sophia,  announces  the  medical  people 
think  the  child  is  visibly  losing  strength,  that  its  walking  becomes 
more  difficult,  and,  in  short,  that  the  spine  seems  visibly  affected. 
They  recommend  tepid  baths  in  sea-water,  so  Sophia  has  gone  down 
to  Brighton,  leaving  Lockhart  in  town,  who  is  to  visit  her  once  a 
week.  Here  is  my  worst  augury  verified.2  The  bitterness  of  this 
probably  impending  calamity  is  extreme.  The  child  was  almost  too 
good  for  this  world ;  beautiful  in  features ;  and,  though  spoiled  by 
every  one,  having  one  of  the  sweetest  tempers,  as  well  as  the  quick- 
est intellect  I  ever  saw ;  a  sense  of  humour  quite  extraordinary  in  a 
child,  and,  owing  to  the  general  notice  which  was  taken  of  him,  a 
great  deal  more  information  than  suited  his  years.  He  was  born  in 
the  eighth  month,  and  such  children  are  never  strong — seldom  long- 
lived.  I  look  on  this  side  and  that,  and  see  nothing  but  protracted 
misery,  a  crippled  frame,  and  decayed  constitution,  occupying  the 
attention  of  his  parents  for  years,  and  dying  at  the  end  of  that  period, 
when  their  hearts  were  turned  on  him ;  or  the  poor  child  may  die 
before  Sophia's  confinement,  and  that  may  again  be  a  dangerous  and 
bad  affair ;  or  she  may,  by  increase  of  attention  to  him,  injure  her 
own  health.  In  short,  to  trace  into  how  many  branches  such  a  mis- 
ery may  flow  is  impossible.  The  poor  dear  love  had  so  often  a  slow 
fever,  that  when  it  pressed  its  little  lips  to  mine,  I  always  foreboded 
to  my  own  heart  what  all  I  fear  are  now  aware  of. 

Lockhart  writes  me  that  Croker  is  the  author  of  the  Letters  in 
the  Courier  against  Malachi,  and  that  Canning  is  to  make  another 
attack  on  me  in  the  House  of  Commons.3  These  things  would  make 

1  Published  as  far  back  as  1792.    An  appre-  averred  that  not  many  years  ago  they  would 

ciative  criticism  on  Mrs.  Smith's  works  will  be  have  subjected  the  author  to  condign  punish- 

found  in  Scott's  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,  ment. 

vol.  iv.  pp.  58-70.  The  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  however, 

»  See  this  Journal,  2  December  last.  *?^Sf?iSS'  hf  fid  nOt  dread '•  the  (lashing 

of  that  Highland  claymore  though  evoked  from 

3  The  letters  of  MalacM  were  treated  by  its  scabbard  by  the  incantations  of  the  mighti- 
some  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  as  ost  magician  of  the  age."— Speech  ot  Kt.  Hon. 
incentives  to  rebellion,  and  senators  gravely  V.  J.  Kobiuson. 


102  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

a  man  proud.  I  will  not  answer,  because  I  must  show  up  Sir  Will- 
iam Rae,  and  even  Lord  Melville,  and  I  have  done  enough  to  draw 
public  attention,  which  is  all  I  want.  Let  them  call  me  ungrateful, 
unkind,  and  all  sorts  of  names,  so  they  keep  their  own  fingers  free  of 
this  most  threatening  measure.  It  is  very  curious  that  each  of  these 
angry  friends — Melville,  Canning,  and  Croker — has  in  former  days 
appealed  to  me  in  confidence  against  each  other. 

While  I  smoked  my  cigar  after  dinner,  my  mind  has  been  running 
into  four  threads  of  bitter  fancies,  or  rather  into  three  decidedly  bit- 
ter, and  one  that  is  indifferent.  There  is  the  distress  incumbent  on 
the  country  by  these  most  untimely  proceedings,  which  I  would  stop 
with  my  life  were  that  adequate  to  prevent  them.  2d,  there  is  the 
unpleasant  feeling  of  seeing  a  number  of  valued  friends  pass  from 
me  ;  that  I  cannot  help.  3d,  there  is  the  gnawing  misery  about  that 
sweet  child  and  its  parents.  4th,  there  is  the  necessity  of  pursuing 
my  own  labours,  for  which  perhaps  I  ought  to  be  thankful,  since  it 
always  wrenches  one's  mind  aside  from  what  it  must  dwell  on  with 
pain.  It  is  odd  that  the  state  of  excitation  with  me  rather  increases 
than  abates  the  power  of  labour.  I  must  finish  Woodstock  well  if  I 
can :  otherwise  how  the  Philistines  will  rejoice ! 

March  1 8. — Slept  indifferently,  and  under  the  influence  of  Queen 
Mab,  seldom  auspicious  to  me,  dreamed  of  reading  the  tale  of  the 
Prince  of  the  Black  Marble  Islands  to  little  Johnnie,  extended  on  a 
paralytic  chair,  and  yet  telling  all  his  pretty  stories  about  Ha-papa, 
as  he  calls  me,  and  Chiefswood — and  waked  to  think  I  should  see 
the  little  darling  no  more,  or  see  him  as  a  thing  that  had  better  never 
have  existed.  Oh,  misery  !  misery  !  that  the  best  I  can  wish  for  him 
is  early  d«ath,  with  all  the  wretchedness  to  his  parents  that  is  like  to 
ensue !  I  intended  to  have  stayed  at  home  to-day ;  but  Tom  more 
wisely  had  resolved  that  I  should  walk,  and  hung  about  the  window 
with  his  axe  and  my  own  in  his  hand  till  I  turned  out  with  him,  and 
helped  to  cut  some  fine  paling. 

March  19. — I  have  a  most  melancholy  letter  from  Anne.  Lady  S., 
the  faithful  and  true  companion  of  my  fortunes,  good  and  bad,  for 
so  many  years,  has,  but  with  difficulty,  been  prevailed  on  to  see  Dr. 
Abercrombie,  and  his  opinion  is  far  from  favourable.  Her  asthmatic 
complaints  are  fast  terminating  in  hydropsy,  as  I  have  long  suspect- 
ed ;  yet  the  avowal  of  the  truth  and  its  probable  consequences  are 
overwhelming.  They  are  to  stay  a  little  longer  in  town  to  try  the 
effects  of  a  new  medicine.  On  Wednesday  they  propose  to  return 
hither — a  new  affliction,  where  there  was  enough  before  ;  yet  her  con- 
stitution is  so  good  that  if  she  will  be  guided  by  advice,  things  may 
be  yet  ameliorated.  God  grant  it !  for  really  these  misfortunes  come 
too  close  upon  each  other. 

A  letter  from  Croker  of  a  very  friendly  tone  and  tenor,  which  I 
will  answer  accordingly,  not  failing,  however,  to  let  him  know  that 
if  I  do  not  reply  it  is  not  for  fear  of  his  arguments  or  raillery, 


1826.]  JOURNAL  103 

far  less  from  diffidence  in  my  cause.  I  hope  and  trust  it  will  do 
good.1 

Maxpopple 2  and  two  of  his  boys  arrived  to  take  part  of  my  poor 
dinner.  I  fear  the  little  fellows  had  little  more  than  the  needful,  but 
they  had  all  I  had  to  give  them. 

I  wrote  a  good  deal  to-day  notwithstanding  heavy  thoughts. 

March  20.  —  Despatched  proofs  and  copy  this  morning;  and 
Swanston,  the  carpenter,  coining  in,  I  made  a  sort  of  busy  idle  day 
of  it  with  altering  and  hanging  pictures  and  prints,  to  find  room  for 
those  which  came  from  Edinburgh,  and  by  dint  of  being  on  foot  from 
ten  to  near  five,  put  all  things  into  apple-pie  order.  What  strange 
beings  we  are  !  The  serious  duties  I  have  on  hand  cannot  divert  my 
mind  from  the  most  melancholy  thoughts ;  and  yet  the  talking  with 
these  workmen,  and  the  trilling  occupation  which  they  give  me,  serves 
to  dissipate  my  attention.  The  truth  is,  I  fancy  that  a  body  under 
the  impulse  of  violent  motion  cannot  be  stopped  or  forced  back,  but 
may  indirectly  be  urged  into  a  different  channel.  In  the  evening  I 
read,  and  sent  off  my  Sheriff-Court  processes. 

I  have  a  sort  of  grudging  to  give  reasons  why  Malachi  does  not 
reply  to  the  answers  which  have  been  sent  forth.  I  don't  know — I 
am  strongly  tempted — but  I  won't.  To  drop  the  tone  might  seem 
mean,  and  perhaps  to  maintain  it  would  only  exasperate  the  quarrel, 
without  producing  any  beneficial  results,  and  might  be  considered  as 
a  fresh  insult  by  my  alienated  friends,  so  on  the  whole  I  won't. 

The  thing  has  certainly  had  more  effect  than  it  deserves ;  and  I 
suspect  my  Ministerial  friends,  if  they  love  me  less,  will  not  hold  me 
cheaper  for  the  fight  I  have  made.  I  am  far  from  saying  oderint  dum 
emerint,  but  there  is  a  great  difference  betwixt  that  and  being  a  mere 
protege,  a  poor  broken-down  man,  who  was  to  be  assisted  when  ex- 
isting circumstances,  that  most  convenient  of  all  apologies  and  hap- 
piest of  all  phrases,  would  permit. 

March  21. — Perused  an  attack  on  myself,  done  with  as  much  abili- 
ty as  truth,  by  no  less  a  man  than  Joseph  Hume,  the  night-work  man 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  who  lives  upon  petty  abuses,  and  is  a  very 
useful  man  by  so  doing.  He  has  had  the  kindness  to  say  that  I  am 
interested  in  keeping  up  the  taxes ;  I  wish  I  had  anything  else  to  do 
with  them  than  to  pay  them.  But  he  lies,  and  is  an  ass,  and  not 
worth  a  man's  thinking  about.  Joseph  Hume,  indeed ! — I  say  Joseph 
Hum, — and  could  add  a  Swiftian  rhyme,  but  forbear. 

Busy  in  unpacking  and  repacking.  I  wrote  five  pages  of  Wood- 
stock, which  work  begins 

"To  appropinque  an  end."8 
March  22. — A  letter  from   Lord  Downshire's  man  of  business 

i  Both  letters  are  quoted  in  Lockhart's  Life,  2  W.  Scott,  Esq..  afterwards  of  Raeburn,  Sir 
vol.  viii.  pp.  299-305.     See  also  Croker's  Corre-  Walter's  Sheriff-substitute. 
spondence  and  Diaries,  edited  by  Louis  J.  Jen- 
nings, 3  vols.  8vo,  Lond.  1884,  vol.  i.  pp.  315-319.  3  Hudibras.— j.  a.  L. 


104  JOURNAL  .  [MARCH 

about  funds  supposed  to  belong  to  my  wife,  or  to  the  estate  of  my 
late  brother-in-law.  The  possessor  of  the  secret  wants  some  reward. 
If  any  is  granted,  it  should  be  a  percentage  on  the  net  sum  received, 
with  the  condition  no  cure — no  pay.  I  expect  Lady  S.,  and  from 
Anne's  last  letter  hope  to  find  her  better  than  the  first  anticipation 
led  me  to  dread. 

Sent  off  proofs  and  copy,  and  shall  indulge  a  little  leisure  to-day 
to  collect  my  ideas  and  stretch  my  limbs.  I  am  again  far  before  the 
press. 

March  23. — Lady  Scott  arrived  yesterday  to  dinner.  She  was 
better  than  I  expected,  but  Anne,  poor  soul,  looked  very  poorly,  and 
had  been  much  worried  with  the  fatigue  and  discomfort  of  the  last 
week.  Lady  S.  takes  the  digitalis,  and,  as  she  thinks,  with  advan- 
tage, though  the  medicine  makes  her  very  sick.  Yet,  on  the  whole, 
things  are  better  than  my  gloomy  apprehensions  had  anticipated. 

I  wrote  to  Lockhart  and  to  Lord  Downshire's  Agent, — G-.  I  land- 
ley,  Esq.,  Pentonville,  London. 

Took  a  good  brushing  walk,  but  not  till  I  had  done  a  good  task. 

March  24. — Sent  off  copy,  proofs,  etc.  J.  B.  clamorous  for  a 
motto. 

It  is  foolish  to  encourage  people  to  expect  mottoes  and  such-like 
decoraments.  You  have  no  credit  for  success  in  finding  them,  and 
there  is  a  disgrace  in  wanting  them.  It  is  like  being  in  the  habit  of 
showing  feats  of  strength,  which  you  at  length  gain  praise  by  accom- 
plishing, while  some  shame  occurs  in  failure. 

March  25. — The  end  winds  out  well  enough.  I  have  almost  fin- 
ished to-night;  indeed  I  might  have  done  so  had  I  been  inclined,  but 
I  had  a  walk  in  a  hurricane  of  snow  for  two  hours  and  feel  a  little 
tired.  Miss  Margaret  Ferguson  came  to  dinner  with  us.1 

March  26. — Here  is  a  disagreeable  morning,  snowing  and  hailing, 
with  gleams  of  bright  sunshine  between,  and  all  the  ground  white, 
and  all  the  air  frozen.  I  don't  like  this  jumbling  of  weather.  It  is 
ungenial,  and  gives  chilblains.  Besides,  with  its  whiteness,  and  its 
coldness,  and  its  glister,  and  its  discomfort,  it  resembles  that  most 
disagreeable  of  all  things,  a  vain,  cold,  empty,  beautiful  woman,  who 
has  neither  mind  nor  heart,  but  only  features  like  a  doll.  I  do  not 
know  what  is  so  like  this  disagreeable  day,  when  the  sun  is  so  bright, 
and  yet  so  uninfluential,  that 

"One  may  gaze  upon  its  beams 
Till  he  is  starved  with  cold." 

No  matter,  it  will  serve  as  well  as  another  day  to  finish  Woodstock. 
Walked  out  to  the  lake,  and  coquetted  with  this  disagreeable  weather, 

1  One  of  Sir  Walter's  kindly  "  weird  sisters  "  1818.    Miss  Margaret  has  been  described  as  ex- 

and  neighbours,  daughters  of  Professor  Fergu-  tremely  like  her  brother  Sir  Adam  in  the  turn 

son.    They  had  occupied  the  house  at  Toftfleld  of  thought  and  of  humour. — See  Life,  vol.  vi. 

(on  which  Scott  at  the  ladies'  request  bestowed  p.  322. 
the  name  of  Huutly  Burn)  from  the  spring  of 


1826.]  JOURNAL  105 

whereby  I  catch  chilblains  in  my  fingers  and  cold  in  my  head.     Fed 
the  swans. 

Finished  Woodstock,  however,  cum  tota  sequela,  of  title-page,  intro- 
duction, etc.,  and  so,  as  Dame  Fortune  says  in  Quevedo, 

"  Go  wheel,  and  may  the  devil  drive  thee." 1 

March  27, — Another  bright  cold  day.  I  answered  two  modest 
requests  from  widow  ladies.  One,  whom  I  had  already  assisted  in 
some  law  business,  on  the  footing  of  her  having  visited  my  mother, 
requested  me  to  write  to  Mr.  Peel,  saying,  on  her  authority,  that  her 
second  son,  a  youth  of  infinite  merit  and  accomplishment,  was  fit  for 
any  situation  in  a  public  office,  and  that  I  requested  he  might  be  pro- 
vided accordingly.  Another  widowed  dame,  whose  claim  is  having 
read  Marmion  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  besides  a  promise  to  read  all 
my  other  works — Gad,  it  is  a  rash  engagement ! — demands  that  I  shall 
either  pay  £200  to  get  her  cub  into  some  place  or  other,  or  settle  him 
in  a  seminary  of  education.  Really  this  is  very  much  after  the  fash- 
ion of  the  husbandman  of  Miguel  Turra's  requests  of  Sancho  when 
Governor.4  "  Have  you  anything  else  to  ask,  honest  man  ?"  quoth 
Sancho.  But  what  are  the  demands  of  an  honest  man  to  those  of  an 
honest  woman,  and  she  a  widow  to  boot?  I  do  believe  your  desti- 
tute widow,  especially  if  she  hath  a  charge  of  children,  and  one 
or  two  fit  for  patronage,  is  one  of  the  most  impudent  animals  liv- 
ing. 

Went  to  Galashiels  and  settled  the  dispute  about  Sandie's  wall. 

March  28. — We  have  now  been  in  solitude  for  some  time — myself 
nearly  totally  so,  excepting  at  meals,  or  on  a  call  as  yesterday  from 
Henry  and  William  Scott  of  Harden.  One  is  tempted  to  ask  himself, 
knocking  at  the  door  of  his  own  heart,  Do  you  love  this  extreme  lone- 
liness ?  I  can  answer  conscientiously,  /  do.  The  love  of  solitude  was 
with  me  a  passion  of  early  youth ;  when  in  my  teens,  I  used  to  fly 
from  company  to  indulge  in  visions  and  airy  castles  of  my  own,  the 
disposal  of  ideal  wealth,  and  the  exercise  of  imaginary  power.  This 
feeling  prevailed  even  till  I  was  eighteen,  when  love  and  ambition 
awakening  with  other  passions  threw  me  more  into  society,  from 
which  I  have,  however,  at  times  withdrawn  myself,  and  have  been 
always  even  glad  to  do  so.  I  have  risen  from  a  feast  satiated ;  and 
unless  it  be  one  or  two  persons  of  very  strong  intellect,  or  whose 
spirits  and  good-humour  amuse  me,  I  wish  neither  to  see  the  high, 
the  low,  nor  the  middling  class  of  society.  This  is  a  feeling  without 
the  least  tinge  of  misanthropy,  which  I  always  consider  as  a  kind  of 
blasphemy  of  a  shocking  description.  If  God  bears  with  the  very 
worst  of  us,  we  may  surely  endure  each  other.  If  thrown  into  socie- 
ty, I  always  have,  and  always  will  endeavour  to  bring  pleasure  with 

1  Fortune,  in  her  Wits,  and  the  Hour  of  all          *  Don  Quixote,  Pt.  n.  cap.  47. 
M?w,Quevedo's  Works, Kdin.  1798,  vol.  iii.  p.  107, 


106  JOURNAL  [MARCH,  1820. 

me,  at  least  to  show  willingness  to  please.  But  for  all  this  "  I  had 
rather  live  alone,"  and  I  wish  my  appointment,  so  convenient  other- 
wise, did  not  require  my  going  to  Edinburgh.  But  this  must  be,  and 
in  my  little  lodging  1  will  be  lonely  enough. 

Had  a  very  kind  letter  from  Croker  disowning  the  least  idea  of. 
personal  attack  in  his  answer  to  Malachi. 

Reading  at  intervals  a  novel  called  Granby ;  one  of  that  very  diffi- 
cult class  which  aspires  to  describe  the  actual  current  of  society, 
whose  colours  are  so  evanescent  that  it  is  difficult  to  tix  them  on  the 
canvas.  .It  is  well  written,  but  over-laboured — too  much  attempt  to 
put  the  reader  exactly  up  to  the  thoughts  and  sentiments  of  the  par- 
ties. The  women  do  this  better :  Edgeworth,  Ferrier,  Austen  have  all 
had  their  portraits  of  real  society,  far  superior  to  anything  man,  vain 
man,  has  produced  of  the  like  nature.1 

March  29. — Worked  in  the  morning.  Had  two  visits  from  Colo- 
nels Russell  and  Ferguson.  Walked  from  one  till  half -past  four.  A 
fine,  flashy,  disagreeable  day  ;  snow-clouds  sweeping  past  among  sun- 
shine, driving  down  the  valley,  and  whitening  the  country  behind 
them. 

Mr.  Gibson  came  suddenly  in  after  dinner.  Brought  very  indiffer- 
ent news  from  Constable's  house.  It  is  not  now  hoped  that  they  will 
pay  above  three  or  four  shillings  in  the  pound.  Robinson  supposed 
not  to  be  much  better. 

Mr.  G.  goes  to  London  immediately,  and  is  to  sell  Woodstock  to 
Robinson  if  he  can,  otherwise  to  those  who  will,  John  Murray,  etc. 
This  work  may  fail,  perhaps,  though  better  than  some  of  its  prede- 
cessors. If  so,  we  must  try  some  new  manner.  1  think  I  could  catch 
the  dogs  yet. 

A  beautiful  and  perfect  lunar  rainbow  to-night. 

March  30. — Mr.  Gibson  looks  unwell,  and  complains  of  cold — bit- 
ter bad  weather  for  his  travelling,  and  he  looks  but  frail. 

These  indifferent  news  he  brought  me  affect  me  but  to  a  little  de- 
gree. It  is  being  too  confident  to  hope  to  ensure  success  in  the  long 
series  of  successive  struggles  which  lie  before  me.  But  somehow,  I 
do  fully  entertain  the  hope  of  doing  a  good  deal. 

March  31. — 

"  He  walked  and  wrote  poor  soul,  what  then  ? 
Why  then,  he  wrote  and  walked  again." 

But  I  am  begun  Nap.  Bon.  again,  which  is  always  a  change,  because 
it  gives  a  good  deal  of  reading  and  research,  whereas  Woodstock  and 
such  like,  being  extempore  from  my  mother-wit,  is  a  sort  of  spinning 
of  the  brains,  of  which  a  man  tires.  The  weather  seems  milder  to- 
day. 

1  Granty  was  written  by  a  young  man,  Thos.       Fint  Earl  of  Clarendon.  3  vols.  8vo.  1837-38. 
H.  Lister,  some  years  afterwards  known  as  the      Mr.  Lister  died  in  his  41st  year 
author  of  The  Life  and  Administration  of  the 


APRIL 

April  1. — Ex  uno  die  disce  omnes.  Rose  at  seven  or  sooner,  stud- 
ied, and  wrote  till  breakfast  with  Anne,  about  a  quarter  before  ten. 
Lady  Scott  seldom  able  to  rise  till  twelve  or  one.  Then  I  write  or 
study  again  till  one.  At  that  hour  to-day  I  drove  to  Huntly  Burn, 
and  walked  home  by  one  of  the  hundred  and  one  pleasing  paths  which 
I  have  made  through  the  woods  I  have  planted — now  chatting  with 
Tom  Purdie,  who  carries  my  plaid,  and  speaks  when  he  pleases,  tell- 
ing long  stories  of  hits  and  misses  in  shooting  twenty  years  back — 
sometimes  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy — and  sometimes 
attending  to  the  humours  of  two  curious  little  terriers  of  the  Dandie 
Dinmont  breed,  together  with  a  noble  wolf-hound  puppy  which  Glen- 
garry has  given  me  to  replace  Maida.  This  brings  me  down  to  the 
very  moment  I  do  tell — the  rest  is  prophetic.  I  will  feel  sleepy  when 
this  book  is  locked,  and  perhaps  sleep  until  Dalgleish  brings  the  din- 
ner summons.  Then  I  will  have  a  chat  with  Lady  S.  and  Anne; 
some  broth  or  soup,  a  slice  of  plain  meat — and  man's  chief  business, 
in  Dr.  Johnson's  estimation,  is  briefly  despatched.  Half  an  hour  with 
my  family,  and  half  an  hour's  coquetting  with  a  cigar,  a  tumbler  of 
weak  whisky  and  water,  and  a  novel  perhaps,  lead  on  to  tea,  which 
sometimes  consumes  another  half  hour  of  chat ;  then  write  and  read 
in  my  own  room  till  ten  o'clock  at  night ;  a  little  bread  and  then  a 
glass  of  porter,  and  to  bed. 

And  this,  very  rarely  varied  by  a  visit  from  some  one,  is  the  tenor 
of  my  daily  life — and  a  very  pleasant  one  indeed,  were  it  not  for  ap- 
prehensions about  Lady  S.  and  poor  Johnnie  Hugh.  The  former  will, 
1  think,  do  well — for  the  latter — I  fear — I  fear — 

April  2. — I  am  in  a  wayward  mood  this  morning.  I  received 
yesterday  the  last  proof-sheets  of  Woodstock,  and  I  ought  to  correct 
them.  Now,  this  ought  sounds  as  like  as  possible  to  must,  and  must 
I  cannot  abide.  I  would  go  to  Prester  John's  country  of  free  good- 
will, sooner  than  I  would  must  it  to  Edinburgh.  Yet  this  is  all  folly, 
and  silly  folly  too ;  and  so  must  shall  be  for  once  obeyed  after  I 
have  thus  written  myself  out  of  my  aversion  to  its  peremptory  sound. 
Corrected  the  said  proofs  till  twelve  o'clock — when  I  think  I  will 
treat  resolution,  not  to  a  dram,  as  the  drunken  fellow  said  after  he 
had  passed  the  dram-shop,  but  to  a  walk,  the  rather  that  my  eyesight 
is  somewhat  uncertain  and  wavering.  I  think  it  must  be  from  the 
stomach.  The  whole  page  waltzes  before  my  eyes.  J.  B.  writes 


108  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

gloomily  about  Woodstock ;  but  commends  the  conclusion.  I  think 
he  is  right.  Besides,  my  manner  is  nearly  caught,  and,  like  Captain 
Bobadil,1  I  have  taught  nearly  a  hundred  gentlemen  to  fence  very 
nearly,  if  not  altogether,  as  well  as  myself.  I  will  strike  out  some- 
thing new. 

April  3. — I  have  from  Ballantyne  and  Gibson  the  extraordinary 
and  gratifying  news  that  Woodstock  is  sold  for  £8228  in  all,  ready 
money — a  matchless  sum  for  less  than  three  months'  work.8  If  Na- 
poleon does  as  well,  or  near  it,  it  will  put  the  trust  affairs  in  high 
flourish.  Four  or  five  years  of  leisure  and  industry  would,  with  [such  ] 
success,  amply  replace  my  losses,  and  put  me  on  a  steadier  footing 
than  ever.  I  have  a  curious  fancy  :  I  will  go  set  two  or  three  acorns, 
and  judge  by  their  success  in  growing  whether  I  will  succeed  in  clear- 
ing my  way  or  not.  I  have  a  little  toothache  keeps  me  from  working 
much  to-day,  besides  I  sent  off,  per  Blucher,  copy  for  Napoleon,  as 
well  as  the  d d  proofs. 

A  blank  forenoon !  But  how  could  I  help  it,  Madam  Duty  ?  I 
was  not  lazy;  on  my  soul  I  was  not.  I  did  rfot  cry  for  half  holiday 
for  the  sale  of  Woodstock.  But  in  came  Colonel  Ferguson  with  Mrs. 
Stewart  of  Blackhill,  or  hall,  or  something,  and  I  must  show  her  the 
garden,  pictures,  etc.  This  lasts  till  one ;  and  just  as  they  are  at 
their  lunch,  and  about  to  go  off,  guard  is  relieved  by  the  Laird  and 
Lady  Harden,  and  Miss  Eliza  Scott — and  my  dear  Chief,  whom  I  love 
very  much,  though  a' little  obsidional  or  so,  remains  till  three.  That 
same  crown,  composed  of  the  grass  which  grew  on  the  walls  of  be- 
sieged places,  should  be  offered  to  visitors  who  stay  above  an  hour  in 
any  eident3  person's  house.  Wrote  letters  this  evening. 

April  4. — Wrote  two  pages  in  the  morning.  Then  went  to  Ashe- 
stiel  in  the  sociable,  with  Colonel  Ferguson.  Found  my  cousin  Rus- 
sell settled  kindly  to  his  gardening,  and  his  projects.  He  seems  to 
have  brought  home  with  him  the  enviable  talent  of  being  inter- 
ested and  happy  in  his  own  place.  Ashestiel  looks  worst,  I  think,  at 
this  period  of  the  year ;  but  is  a  beautiful  place  in  summer,  where  I 
passed  nine  happy  years.  Did  I  ever  pass  unhappy  years  anywhere  ? 
None  that  I  remember,  save  those  at  the  High  School,  which  I  thor- 
oughly detested  on  account  of  the  confinement.  I  disliked  serving 
in  my  father's  office,  too,  from  the  same  hatred  to  restraint.  In 
other  respects,  I  have  had  unhappy  days — unhappy  weeks — even,  on 
one  or  two  occasions,  unhappy  months ;  but  Fortune's  finger  has 
never  been  able  to  play  a  dirge  on  me  for  a  quarter  of  a  year 
together. 

I  am  sorry  to  see  the  Peel-wood,  and  other  natural  coppice,  decay- 
ing and  abridged  about  Ashestiel — 

»  Ben  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  creditors,  and  that  this  sum  includos  the  cost 

Act  iv.  Sc.  5.  of  printing  the  first  edition  as  well  as  paper.— 

2  The  reader  will  understand  that  the  Novel  i.  o.  L.  • 

was  sold  for  behoof  of  James  Ballantyue  &  Co.  's  3  Eident,  i.  e.  eagerly  diligent.— i.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  109 

"The  horrid  plough  has  razed  the  green, 

Where  once  my  children  play'd  ; 
The  axe  has  fell'd  the  hawthorn  screen, 
The  schoolboys'  summer  shade." ' 

There  was  a  very  romantic  pasturage  called  the  Cow-park,  which  I 
was  particularly  attached  to,  from  its  wild  and  sequestered  character. 
Having  been  part  of  an  old  wood  which  had  been  cut  down,  it  was 
full  of  copse — hazel,  and  oak,  and  all  sorts  of  young  trees,  irregularly 
scattered  over  fine  pasturage,  and  affording  a  hundred  intricacies  so 
delicious  to  the  eye  and  the  imagination.  But  some  misjudging  friend 
had  cut  down  and  cleared  away  without  mercy,  and  divided  the  va- 
ried and  sylvan  scene,  which  was  divided  by  a  little  rivulet,  into  the 
two  most  formal  things  in  nature — a  thriving  plantation,  many-angled 
as  usual,  and  a  park  laid  down  in  grass  ;  wanting  therefore  the  rich 
graminivorous  variety  which  Nature  gives  its  carpet,  and  having  in- 
stead a  braird  of  six  days'  growth — lean  and  hungry  growth  too — of 
ryegrass  and  clover.  As  for  the  rill,  it  stagnates  in  a  deep  square 
ditch,  which  silences  its  prattle,  and  restrains  its  meanders  with  a  wit- 
ness. The  original  scene  was,  of  course,  imprinted  still  deeper  on 
Russell's  mind  than  mine,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  he  was  intensely 
sorry  for  the  change. 

April  5. — Rose  late  in  the  morning,  past  eight,  to  give  the  cold 
and  toothache  time  to  make  themselves  scarce,  which  they  have 
obligingly  done.  Yesterday  every  tooth  on  the  right  side  of  my  head 
was  absolutely  waltzing.  I  would  have  drawn  by  the  half  dozen,  but 
country  dentists  are  not  to  be  lippened  to.8  To-day  all  is  quiet,  but 
a  little  swelling  and  stiffness  in  the  jaw.  Went  to  Chiefswood  at 
one,  and  marked  with  regret  forty  trees  indispensably  necessary  for 
paling — much  like  drawing  a  tooth ;  they  are  wanted  and  will  never 
be  better,  but  I  am  avaricious  of  grown  trees,  having  so  few. 

Worked  a  fair  task ;  dined,  and  *ead  Clapperton's  journey  and 
Denham's  into  Bornou.  Very  entertaining,  and  less  botheration 
about  mineralogy,  botany,  and  so  forth,  than  usual.  Pity  Africa 
picks  up  so  many  brave  men,  however.  Work  in  the  evening. 

April  6. — Wrote  in  the  morning.  Went  at  one  to  Huntly  Burn, 
where  I  had  the  great  pleasure  to  hear,  through  a  letter  from  Sir 
Adam,  that  Sophia  was  in  health,  and  Johnnie  gaining  strength.  It 
is  a  fine  exchange  from  deep  and  aching  uncertainty  on  so  interesting 
a  subject,  to  the  little  spitfire  feeling  of  "  Well,  but  they  might  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  write  "  ;  but  so  wretched  a  correspondent  as  my- 
self has  not  much  to  say,  so  I  will  just  grumble  sufficiently  to  main- 
tain the  patriarchal  dignity. 

I  returned  in  time  to  work,  and  to  receive  a  shoal  of  things  from 
J.  B.  Among  others,  a  letter  from  an  Irish  lady,  who,  for  the  beaux 
yeux,  which  I  shall  never  look  upon,  desires  I  will  forthwith  send  her 

1  These  lines  slightly  altered  from  Logan J.  G.  L.  a  Lippened,  i.e.  relied  upon. — j.  a.  L. 


110  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

all  the  Waverley  Novefcs,  which  are  published,  with  an  order  to  fur- 
nish her  with  all  others  in  course  as  they  appear,  which  she  assures 
me  will  be  an  era  in  her  life.  She  may  find  out  some  other  epocha. 

April  7. — Made  out  my  morning's  task ;  at  one  drove  to  Chiefs- 
wood,  and  walked  home  by  the  Rhymer's  Glen,  Mar's  Lee,  and  Hax- 
ell-Cleugh.  Took  me  three  hours.  The  heath  gets  somewhat  heav- 
ier for  me  every  year — but  never  mind,  I  like  it  altogether  as  well  as 
the  day  I  could  tread  it  best.  My  plantations  are  getting  all  into 
green  leaf,  especially  the  larches,  if  theirs  may  be  called  leaves,  which 
are  only  a  sort  of  hair,  and  from  the  number  of  birds  drawn  to  these 
wastes,  I  may  congratulate  myself  on  having  literally  made  the  des- 
ert to  sing.  As  I  returned,  there  was,  in  the  phraseology  of  that  most 
precise  of  prigs  in  a  white  collarless  coat  and  chapeau  has,  Mister 
Commissary  Ramsay — "  a  rather  dense  inspissation  of  rain."  Deil 
care. 

"Lord,  who  would  live  turmoiled  in  the  Court, 
That  might  enjoy  such  quiet  walks  as  these  ?" ' 

Yet  misfortune  comes  our  way  too.  Poor  Laidlaw  lost  a  fine 
prattling  child  of  five  years  old  yesterday. 

It  is  odd  enough — Iden,  the  Kentish  Esquire,  has  just  made  the 
ejaculation  which  I  adopted  in  the  last  page, -when  he  kills  Cade,  and 
posts  away  up  to  Court  to  get  the  price  set  upon  his  head.  Here  is 
a  letter  come  from  Lockhart,  full  of  Court  news,  and  all  sort  of  news, 
— best  is  his  wife  is  well,  and  thinks  the  child  gains  in  health. 

Lockhart  erroneously  supposes  that  I  think  of  applying  to  Min- 
isters about  Charles,  and  that  notwithstanding  Croker's.terms  of  paci- 
fication I  should  find  Malacki  stick  in  my  way.  I  would  not  make 
such  an  application  for  millions ;  I  think  if  I  were  to  ask  patronage 
it  would  [not]  be  through  them,  for  some  time  at  least,  and  I  might 
have  better  access.2 

April  8. — We  expect  a  raid  of  folks  to  visit  us  this  morning, 
whom  we  must  have  dined  before  our  misfortunes.  Save  time,  wine, 
and  money,  these  misfortunes  —  and  so  far  are  convenient  things. 
Besides,  there  is  a  dignity  about  them  when  they  come  only  like  the 
gout  in  its  mildest  shape,  to  authorise  diet  and  retirement,  the  night- 
gown and  the  velvet  shoe ;  when  the  one  comes  to  chalkstones,  and 
the  other  to  prison,  though,  there  would  be  the  devil.  Or  compare 
the  effects  of  Sieur  Gout  and  absolute  poverty  upon  the  stomach — 
the  necessity  of  a  bottle  of  laudanum  in  the  one  case,  the  want  of  a 
morsel  of  meat  in  the  other. 

Laidlaw's  infant,  which  died  on  Wednesday,  is  buried  to-day. 
The  people  coming  to  visit  prevent  my  going,  and  I  am  glad  of  it.  I 
hate  funerals — always  did.  There  is  such  a  mixture  of  mummery 

'  2  King  Henry  VI.,  Act  iv.  Sc.  10,  slightly      interest,  as  you  might  have  known,  lies  Wind- 
varied,  sorway." — JI.Q.L. 
*  In  a  letter  of  the  same  day  ho  says— "My 


1826.]  JOURNAL  111 

with  real  grief — the  actual  mourner  perhaps  heart-broken,  and  all  the 
rest  making  solemn  faces,  and  whispering  observations  on  the  weather 
and  public  news,  and  here  and  there  a  greedy  fellow  enjoying  the 
cake  and  wine.  To  me  it  is  a  farce  full  of  most  tragical  mirth,  and  I 
am  not  sorry  (like  Provost  Coulter1)  but  glad  that  I  shall  not  see  my 
own.  This  is  a  most  unfilial  tendency  of  mine,  for  my  father  abso- 
lutely loved  a  funeral ;  and  as  he  was  a  man  of  a  fine  presence,  and 
looked  the  mourner  well,  he  was  asked  to  every  interment  of  distinc- 
tion, lie  seemed  to  preserve  the  list  of  a  whole  bead-roll  of  cousins, 
merely  for  the  pleasure  of  being  at  their  funerals,  which  he  was  often 
asked  to  superintend,  and  I  suspect  had  sometimes  to  pay  for.  He 
carried  me  with  him  as  often  as  he  could  to  these  mortuary  cere- 
monies ;  but  feeling  I  was  not,  like  him,  either  useful  or  ornamental, 
1  escaped  as  often  as  I  could. 

I  saw  the  poor  child's  funeral  from  a  distance.  Ah,  that  Dis- 
tance !  What  a  magician  for  conjuring  up  scenes  of  joy  or  sorrow, 
smoothing  all  asperities,  reconciling  all  incongruities,  veiling  all  ab- 
surdness,  softening  every  coarseness,  doubling  every  effect  by  the  in- 
fluence of  the  imagination.  A  Scottish  wedding  should  be  seen  at  a 
distance  ;  the  gay  band  of  the  dancers  just  distinguished  amid  the  el- 
derly group  of  the  spectators, — the  glass  held  high,  and  the  distant 
cheers  as  it  is  swallowed,  should  be  only  a  sketch,  not  a  finished 
Dutch  picture,  when  it  becomes  brutal  and  boorish.  Scotch  psal- 
mody, too,  should  be  heard  from  a  distance.  The  grunt  and  the 
snuffle,  and  the  whine  and  the  scream,  should  be  all  blended  in  that 
deep  and  distant  sound,  which,  rising  and  falling  like  the  Eolian  harp, 
may  have  some  title  to  be  called  the  praise  of  our  Maker.  Even  so 
the  distant  funeral :  the  few  mourners  on  horseback,  with  their  plaids 
wrapped  around  them — the  father  heading  the  procession  as  they  en- 
ter the  river,  and  pointing  out  the  ford  by  which  his  darling  is  to  be 
carried  on  the  last  long  road — not  one  of  the  subordinate  figures  in 
discord  with  the  general  tone  of  the  incident — seeming  just  accesso- 
ries, and  no  more — this  is  affecting. 

April  9. — I  worked  at  correcting  proofs  in  the  morning,  and, 
what  is  harder,  at  correcting  manuscript,  which  fags  me  excessively. 
I  was  dead  sick  of  it  by  two  o'clock,  the  rather  as  my  hand,  O  revered 
"  Gurnal,"  be  it  said  between  ourselves,  gets  daily  worse. 

Lockhart's  Review?  Don't  like  his  article  on  Sheridan's  life. 
There  is  no  breadth  in  it,  no  general  views,  the  whole  flung  away  in 
smart  but  party  criticism.  Now,  no  man  can  ta*ke  more  general  and 
liberal  views  of  literature  than  J.  G.  L.  But  he  lets  himself  too  easily 
into  that  advocatism  of  style,  which  is  that  of  a  pleader,  not  a  judge 

i  William  Coulter,  Lord  Provost  of  Edin-  tlemen,  though  doomed  to  the  trade  of  a  stock- 
burgh,  died  in  office,  April,  1810,  and  was  said  ing- weaver,  I  was  born  with  the  soul  of  a  Sheep- 
to  have  been  greatly  consoled  on  his  deathbed  to  "  (Scipio). 
by  the  prospect  of  so  grand  a  funeral  as  must 

needs  occur  in  his  case. — Scott  used  to  take  him         z  Quarterly  Review,  No.  66:  Lockhart's  re- 

off  as  saying,  at  some  public  meeting,  "Gen-  view  of  Sheridan's  Life. 


112 


JOURNAL 


[APRIL 


or  a  critic,  and  is  particularly  unsatisfactory  to  the  reader.     Lieut.  - 
Col.  Ferguson  dined  here. 

April  10. — Sent  off  proofs  and  copy  galore  before  breakfast,  and 
might  be  able  to  give  idleness  a  day  if  I  liked.  But  it  is  as  well 
reading  for  Boney  as  for  anything  else,  and  I  have  a  humour  to  make 
my  amusement  useful.  Then  the  day  is  changeable,  with  gusts  of 
wind,Nand  I  believe  a  start  to  the  garden  will  be  my  best  out-of- 
doors  exercise.  No  thorough  hill-expedition  in  this  gusty  weather. 

April  11. — Wrought  out  my  task,  although  I  have  been  much  af- 
fected this  morning  by  the  Morbus,  as  I  call  it.  Aching  pain  in  the 
back,  rendering  one  posture  intolerable,  fluttering  of  the  heart,  idle 
fears,  gloomy  thoughts  and  anxieties,  which  if  not  unfounded  are  at 
least  bootless.  1  have  been  out  once  or  twice,  but  am  driven  in  by 
the  rain.  Mercy  on  us,  what  poor  devils  we  are  !  I  shook  this  affec- 
tion off,  however.  Mr.  Scrope  and  Col.  Ferguson  came  to  dinner,  and 
we  twaddled  away  the  evening  well  enough. 

April  12. — I  have  finished  my  task  this  morning  at  half-past 
eleven — easily  and  early — and,  I  think,  not  amiss.  I  hope  J.  B.  will 
make  some  great  points  of  admiration  !  !  ! — otherwise  I  will  be  disap- 
pointed. If  this  work  answers — if  it  but  answers,  it  must  set  us  on 
our  legs ;  I  am  sure  worse  trumpery  of  mine  has  had  a  great  run. 
Well,  I  will  console  myself  and  do  my  best !  But  fashion  changes, 
and  I  am  getting  old,  and  may  become  unpopular,  but  it  is  time  to 
cry  out  when  I  am  hurt.  I  remember  with  what  great  difficulty  1 
was  brought  to  think  myself  something  better  than  common,1 — and 


1  It  is  interesting  to  read  what  James  Bal- 
lantyne  has  recorded  on  this  subject. — "Sir 
Walter  at  all  times  laboured  under  the  stran- 
gest delusion  as  to  the  merits  of  his  own  works. 
On  this  score  he  was  not  only  inaccessible  to 
compliments,  but  even  insensible  to  the  truth; 
in  fact,  at  all  times,  he  hated  to  talk  of  any  of 
his  productions:  as,  for  instance,  he  greatly 
preferred  Mrs.  Shelley's  Frankenstein  to  any 
of  his  own  romances.  I  remember  one  day, 
when  Mr.  Erskine  and  I  were  dining  with  him, 
cither  immediately  before  or  immediately  after 
the  publication  of  one  of  the  best  of  the  latter, 
and  were  giving  it  the  high  praise  we  thought 
it  deserved,  he  asked  us  abruptly  whether  we 
had  read  Frankenstein.  We  answered  that  we 
had  not.  'Ah,'  he  said,  'have  patience,  read 
Frankenstein,  and  you  will  be  better  able  to 

judge  of . '     You  will  easily  judge  of  the 

disappointment  thus  prepared  for  us.  When 
I  ventured,  as  I  sometimes  did,  to  press  him 
on  the  score  of  the  reputation  he  had  gained, 
he  merely  asked,  as  if  he  determined  to  be 
done  with  the  discussion,  'Why,  what  is  the 
value  of  a  reputation  which  probably  will  not 
last  above  one  or  two  generations  ?'  One  morn- 
ing, I  recollect,  I  went  into  his  library,  shortly 
after  the  publication  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
and  finding  Miss  Scott  there,  who  was  then  a 
very  young  girl,  I  asked  her,  'Well,  Miss  So- 
phia, how  do  you  like  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
with  which  everybody  is  so  much  enchanted  ?' 
Her  answer  was,  with  affecting  simplicity,  '  Oh, 


I  have  not  read  it.  Papa  says  there's  nothing 
so  bad  for  young  girls  as  reading  bad  poetry.' 
Yet  he  could  not  be  said  to  be  hostile  to  com- 
pliments in  the  abstract — nothing  was  so  easy 
as  to  flatter  him  about  a  farm  or  a  field,  and 
his  manner  on  such  an  occasion  plainly  showed 
that  he  was  really  open  to  such  a  compliment, 
and  liked  it.  In  fact,  I  can  recall  only  one  in- 
stance in  which  he  was  fairly  cheated  into 
pleasure  by  a  tribute  paid  to  his  literary  merit, 
and  it  was  a  striking  one.  Somewhere  betwixt 
two  and  three  years  ago  I  was  dining  at  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Brunton's,  with  a  large  and  accom- 
plished party,  of  whom  Dr.  Chalmers  was  one. 
The  conversation  turned  upon  Sir  Waller  Scott's 
romances  generally,  and  the  course  of  it  led  me 
very  shortly  afterwards  to  call  on  Sir  Walter, 
and  address  him  as  follows — I  knew  the  task 
was  a  bold  one,  but  I  thought  I  saw  that  I 
should  get  well  through  it— 'Well,  Sir  Walter.' 
I  said,  'I  was  dining  yesterday,  where  your 
works  became  the  subject  of  very  copious  con- 
versation.' His  countenance  immediately  be- 
came overcast — and  his  answer  was,  'Well,  I 
think  I  must  say  your  party  might  have  been 
better  employed.'  'I  knew  it  would  be  your 
answer,' — the  conversation  continued, —  'nor 
would  I  have  mentioned  it,  but  that  Dr.  Chal- 
mers was  present,  and  was  by  far  the  most 
decided  in  his  expressions  of  pleasure  and  ad- 
miration of  any  of  the  party.'  This  instantly 
roused  him  to  the  most  vivid  animation.  '  Dr. 
Chalmers?'  he  repeated;  'that  throws  new 


1826.]  JOURNAL  113 

now  I  will  not  in  mere  faintness  of  heart  give  up  good  hopes.  So 
Fortune  protect  the  bold.  I  have  finished  the  whole  introductory 
sketch  of  the  Revolution — too  long  for  an  introduction.  But  I  think 
I  may  now  go  to  my  solitary  walk. 

April  13. — On  my  return  from  my  walk  yesterday  I  learnt  with 
great  concern  the  death  of  my  old  friend,  Sir  Alexander  Don.  He 
cannot  have  been  above  six  -  or  seven  -  and  -  forty.  Without  being 
much  together,  we  had,  considering  our  different  habits,  lived  in  much 
friendship,  and  I  sincerely  regret  his  death.  His  habits  were  those 
of  a  gay  man,  much  connected  with  the  turf ;  but  he  possessed  strong 
natural  parts,  and  in  particular  few  men  could  speak  better  in  public 
when  he  chose.  He  had  tact,  wit,  power  of  sarcasm,  and  that  inde- 
scribable something  which  marks  the  gentleman.  His  manners  in 
society  were  extremely  pleasing,  and  as  he  had  a  taste  for  literature 
and  the  fine  arts,  there  were  few  more  pleasant  companions,  besides 
being  a  highly-spirited,  steady,  and  honourable  man.  His  indolence 
prevented  his  turning  these  good  parts  towards  acquiring  the  distinc- 
tion he  might  have  attained.  He  was  among  the  detenus  whom  Bo- 
naparte's iniquitous  commands  confined  so  long  in  France  ;  *  and  com- 
ing there  into  possession  of  a  large  estate  in  right  of  his  mother,  the 
heiress  of  the  Glencairn  family,  he  had  the  means  of  being  very  ex- 
pensive, and  probably  then  acquired  those  gay  habits  which  rendered 
him  averse  to  serious  business.  Being  our  member  for  Roxburgh- 
shire, his  death  will  make  a  stir  amongst  us.  I  prophesy  Harden8 
will  be  here  to  talk  about  starting  his  son  Henry. 

Accordingly  the  Laird  and  Lady  called.  I  exhorted  him  to  write 
to  Lord  Montagu3  instantly.  I  do  not  see  what  they  can  do  better, 
and  unless  some  pickthank  intervene  to  insinuate  certain  irritating 
suspicions,  I  suppose  Lord  M.  will  make  no  objection.  There  can  be 
no  objection  to  Henry  Scott  for  birth,  fortune,  or  political  principle ; 
and  I  do  not  see  where  we  could  get  a  better  representative. 

April  14. — Wrote  to  Lord  M.  last  night.  I  hope  they  will  keep 
the  peace  in  the  county.  I  am  sure  it  would  be  to  me  a  most  dis- 
tressing thing  if  Buccleuch  and  Harden  were  to  pull  different  ways, 
being  so  intimate  with  both  families. 

I  did  not  write  much  yesterday,  not  above  two  pages  and  a  half. 
I  have  begun  JBoney,  though,  and  Jest  toujours  quelque  chose.  This 
morning  I  sent  off  proofs  and  manuscript.  Had  a  letter  from  the 
famous  Denis  Davidoff,  the  Black  Captain,  whose  abilities  as  a  parti- 

light  on  the  subject — to  have  produced  any  of  Ardkinglas'  Memoirs,  2  vols.  8vo,  London, 

effect  upon  the  mind  of  such  a  man  as  Dr.  1832,  vol.  ii.  chaps.  7  and  8. 
Chalmers  is  indeed  something  to  be  proud  of. 

Dr.  Chalmers  is  a  man  of  the  truest  genius.    I  2  Hugh  Scott  of  Harden,  afterwards  (in  1835) 

will  thank  you  to  repeat  all  you  can  recollect  Lord  Polwarth— succeeded  by  his  son  Henry, 

that  he  said  on  the  subject.'    I  did  so  accord-  in  1841. 

ingly,  and  I  can  recall  no  other  similar  in-  3  Henry  Jas.  Scott,  who  succeeded  to  the 

stance." — James  Ballantyne's  JUS.  Barony  of  Montagu  on  the  demise  of  his  grand- 

1  For  the  life  led  by  many  of  the  detenus  in  father,  the  Duke  of  Montagu,  was  the  son  of 

France  before  1814,  and  for  anecdotes  regard-  Henry,  3d  Duke  of  Buccleuch.     At  Lord  M.'s 

ing  Sir  Alexander  Don,  see  Sir  James  Campbell  death  in  1845  the  Barony  of  Montagu  expired. 
8 


114  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

san  were  so  much  distinguished  during  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  If  I 
can  but  wheedle  him  out  of  a  few  anecdotes,  it  would  be  a  great  haul. 

A  kind  letter  from  Colin  Mackenzie] ;  he  thinks  the  Ministry 
will  not  push  the  measure  against  Scotland.  I  fear  they  will ;  there 
is  usually  an  obstinacy  in  weakness.  But  I  will  think  no  more  about 
it.  Time  draws  on.  I  have  been  here  a  month.  Another  month 
carries  me  to  be  a  hermit  in  the  city  instead  of  the  country.  I  could 
scarce  think  I  had  been  here  a  week.  I  wish  I  was  able,  even  at 
great  loss,  to  retire  from  Edinburgh  entirely.  Here  is  no  bile,  no 
visits,  no  routine,  and  yet  on  the  whole,  things  are  as  well  perhaps  as 
they  are. 

April  15. — Received  last  night  letters  from  Sir  John  Scott  Doug- 
las, and  from  that  daintiest  of  Dandies,  Sir  William  Elliot  of  Stobs, 
canvassing  for  the  county.  Young  Harry's1  the  lad  for  me.  But 
will  he  be  the  lad  for  Lord  Montagu  ? — there  is  the  point.  I  should 
have  given  him  a  hint  to  attend  to  Edgerston.  Perhaps  being  at 
Minto,  and  not  there,  may  give  offence,  and  a  bad  report  from  that 
quarter  would  play  the  devil.  It  is  rather  too  late  to  go  down  and 
tell  them  this,  and,  to  say  truth,  I  don't  like  the  air  of  making  myself 
busy  in  the  matter. 

Poor  Sir  Alexander  Don  died  of  a  disease  in  the  heart ;  the  body 
was  opened,  which  was  very  right.  Odd  enough,  too,  to  have  a  man, 
probably  a  friend  two  days  before,  slashing  at  one's  heart  as  if  it 
were  a  bullock's.  I  had  a  letter  yesterday  from  John  Gibson.  The 
House  of  Longman  and  Co.  guarantee  the  sale  [of  Woodstock]  to 
Hurst,  and  take  the  work,  if  Hurst  and  Robinson  (as  is  to  be  feared) 
can  make  no  play. 

Also  I  made  up  what  was  due  of  my  task  both  for  13th  and  14th. 
So  hey  for  a  Swiftianism — 

"I  loll  in  my  chair, 
And  around  me  I  stare 
With  a  critical  air, 
Like  a  calf  at  a  fair; 
And,  say  I,  Mrs.  Duty, 
Good-morrow  to  your  beauty, 
I  kiss  your  sweet  shoe-tie, 
And  hope  I  can  suit  ye." 

Fair  words  butter  no  parsnips,  says  Duty  ;  don't  keep  talking 
then,  but  get  to  your  work  again.  Here  is  a  day's  task  before  you 
— the  siege  of  Toulon.  Call  you  that  a  task  ?  d —  me,  I  '11  write  it  as 
fast  as  Boney  carried  it  on. 

April  16. — I  am  now  far  ahead  with  Nap.  I  wrote  a  little  this 
morning,  but  this  forenoon  I  must  write  letters,  a  task  in  which  I  am 
far  behind. 

"Heaven  sure  sent  letters  for  some  wretch's  plague."5 

*  Henry  Scott,  afterwards  Lord  Polwarth.  a  Slightly  altered  from  Pope's  Eloisa  to  Abe- 

lard. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  115 

Lady  Scott  seems  to  make  no  way,  yet  can  scarce  be  said  to  lose 
any.  She  suffers  much  occasionally,  especially  during  the  night. 
Sleeps  a  great  deal  when  at  ease  ;  all  symptoms  announce  water  upon 
the  chest.  A  sad  prospect. 

In  the  evening  a  despatch  from  Lord  Melville,  written  with  all  the 
familiarity  of  former  times,  desiring  me  to  ride  down  and  press  Mr. 
Scott  of  Harden  to  let  Henry  stand,  and  this  in  Lord  Montagu's 
name  as  well  as  his  own,  so  that  the  two  propositions  cross  each 
other  on  the  road,  and  Henry  is  as  much  desired  by  the  Buccleuch 
interest  as  he  desires  their  support. 

Jedburgh,  April  17.  —  Came  over  to  Jedburgh  this  morning,  to 
breakfast  with  my  good  old  friend  Mr.  Shortreed,  and  had  my  usual 
warm  reception.  Lord  Gillies  held  the  Circuit  Court,  and  there  was 
no  criminal  trial  for  any  offence  whatsoever.  I  have  attended  these 
circuits  with  tolerable  regularity  since  1792,  and  though  there  is  sel- 
dom much  of  importance  to  be  done,  yet  I  never  remember  before 
the  Porteous  roll1  being  quite  blank.  The  judge  was  presented  with 
a  pair  of  white  gloves,  in  consideration  of  its  being  a  maiden  circuit. 
Harden  came  over  and  talked  about  his  son's  preferment,  naturally 
much  pleased. 

Received  £100  from  John  Lockhart,  for  review  of  Pepys;*  but 
this  is  by  far  too  much  ;  £50  is  plenty.  Still  I  must  impeticos  the 
gratility  for  the  present,3  —  for  Whitsunday  will  find  me  only  with  £300 
in  hand,  unless  Blackwood  settles  a  few  scores  of  pounds  for  Malachi. 

Wrote  a  great  many  letters.  Dined  with  the  Judge,  where  I  met 
the  disappointed  candidate,  Sir  John  Scott  Douglas,  who  took  my  ex- 
cuse like  a  gentleman.  Sir  William  Elliot,  on  the  other  hand,  was, 
being  a  fine  man,  very  much  out  of  sorts,  that  having  got  his  own  con- 
sent, he  could  not  get  that  of  the  county.  He  showed  none  of  this, 
however,  to  me. 

April  18.  —  This  morning  I  go  down  to  Kelso  from  Jedburgh  to 
poor  Don's  funeral.  It  is,  I  suppose,  forty  years  since  I  saw  him 
first.  I  was  staying  at  Sydenham,  a  lad  of  fourteen,  or  by  'r  Lady 
some  sixteen  ;  and  he,  a  boy  of  six  or  seven,  was  brought  to  visit  me 
on  a  pony,  a  groom  holding  the  leading  rein  —  and  now,  I,  an  old  grey 
man,  am  going  to  lay  him  in  his  grave.  Sad  work.  I  detest  funerals  ; 
there  is  always  a  want  of  consistency  ;  it  is  a  tragedy  played  by 
strolling  performers,  who  are  more  likely  to  make  you  laugh  than 
cry.  No  chance  of  my  being  made  to  laugh  to-day.  The  very  road 
I  go  is  a  road  of  grave  recollections.  Must  write  to  Charles  serious- 
ly on  the  choice  of  his  profession,  and  I  will  do  it  now. 

1  The  Catalogue  of  Criminals  brought  before  Jamieson  suggests  that  the  \rord  may  hare 

the  Circuit  Courts  at  one  time  was  termed  in  come  from  "Porteous"  as  originally  applied  to 

Scotland  the  Portuous  Roll.    The  name  appears  a  Breviary,  or  portable  book  of  prayers,  which 

to  have  been  derived  from  the  practice  in  early  might  easily  be  transferred  to  a  portable  roll 

times  of  delivering  to  the  judges  lists  of  Crim-  of  indictments. 


ay  res.—  Chambers's  Book  of  Scotland,  p.  310.  3  Twelfth  Night,  Act  IL  Sc.  3. 


116  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

[Abbotsford,]  April  19. — Returned  last  night  from  the  house  of 
death  and  mourning  to  my  own,  now  the  habitation  of  sickness  and 
anxious  apprehension.  Found  Lady  S.  had  tried  the  foxglove  in 
quantity,  till  it  made  her  so  sick  she  was  forced  to  desist.  The  re- 
sult cannot  yet  be  judged.  Wrote  to  Mrs.  Thomas  Scott  to  beg  her 
to  let  her  daughter  Anne,  an  uncommonly,  sensible,  steady,  and  sweet- 
tempered  girl,  come  and  stay  with  us  a  season  in  our  distress,  who  I 
trust  will  come  forthwith. 

Two  melancholy  things.  Last  night  I  left  my  pallet  in  our  fam- 
ily apartment,  to  make  way  for  a  female  attendant,  and  removed  to  a 
dressing-room  adjoining,  when  to  return,  or  whether  ever,  God  only 
can  tell.  Also  my  servant  cut  my  hair,  which  used  to  be  poor  Char- 
lotte's personal  task.  I  hope  she  will  not  observe  it. 

The  funeral  yesterday  was  very  mournful;  about  fifty  persons 
present,  and  all  seemed  affected.  The  domestics  in  particular  were 
very  much  so.  Sir  Alexander  was  a  kind,  though  an  exact  master. 
It  was  melancholy  to  see  those  apartments,  where  I  have  so  often 
seen  him  play  the  graceful  and  kind  landlord  filled  with  those  who 
were  to  carry  him  to  his  long  home. 

There  was  very  little  talk  of  the  election,  at  least  till  the  funeral 
was  over. 

April  20. — Lady  Scott's  health  in  the  same  harassing  state  of  un- 
certainty, yet  on  my  side  with  more  of  hope  than  I  had  two  days  since. 

Another  death  ;  Thomas  Riddell,  younger  of  Camiston,  Sergeant- 
Major  of  the  Edinburgh  Troop  in  the  sunny  days  of  our  yeomanry, 
and  a  very  good  fellow. 

The  day  was  so  tempting  that  I  went  out  with  Tom  Purdie  to  cut 
some  trees,  the  rather  that  my  task  was  very  well  advanced.  He  led 
me  into  the  wood,  as  the  blind  King  of  Bohemia  was  led  by  his  four 
knights  into  the  thick  of  the  battle  at  Agincourt  or  Crecy,1  and  then, 
like  the  old  King,  "  I  struck  good  strokes  more  than  one,"  which  is 
manly  exercise. 

April  21. — This  day  I  entertained  more  flattering  hopes  of  Lady 
Scott's  health  than  late  events  permitted.  I  went  down  to  Mertoun 
with  Colonel  Ferguson,  who  returned  to  dine  here,  which  consumed 
time  so  much  that  I  made  a  short  day's  work. 

Had  the  grief  to  find  Lady  Scott  had  insisted  on  coming  down- 
stairs and  was  the  worse  of  it.  Also  a  letter  from  Lockhart,  giving 
a  poor  account  of  the  infant.  God  help  us !  earth  cannot. 

April  22. — Lady  Scott  continues  very  poorly.  Better  news  of 
the  child. 

Wrought  a  good  deal  to-day,  rather  correcting  sheets  and  acquir- 
ing information  than  actually  composing,  which  is  the  least  toilsome 
of  the  three. 

J.  G.  L.  kindly  points  out  some  solecisms  in  my  style,  as  "  amid  " 

*  See  Froissart's  account  of  the  Battle  of  Crecy,  Bk.  i.  cap.  129. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  117 

for  "  amidst,"  "  scarce  "  for  "  scarcely."  "  Whose,"  he  says,  is  the 
proper  genitive  of  "  which  "  only  at  such  times  as  "  which  "  retains  its 
quality  of  impersonification.  Well !  I  will  try  to  remember  all  this, 
but  after  all  I  write  grammar  as  I  speak,  to  make  my  meaning  known, 
and  a  solecism  in  point  of  composition,  like  a  Scotch  word  in  speak- 
ing, is  indifferent  to  me.  I  never  learned  grammar ;  and  not  only 
Sir  Hugh  Evans  but  even  Mrs.  Quickly  might  puzzle  me  about  Giney's 
case  and  horum  harum  horum.1  I  believe  the  Bailiff  in  The  Good- 
natured  Man  is  not  far  wrong  when  he  says,  "  One  man  has  one 
way  of  expressing  himself,  and  another  another,  and  that'is  all  the 
difference  between  them."4  Went  to  Huntly  Burn  to-day  and 
looked  at  the  Colonel's  projected  approach.  1  am  sure  if  the  kind 
heart  can  please  himself  he  will  please  me. 

April  23. — A  glorious  day,  bright  and  brilliant,  and,  I  fancy,  mild. 
Lady  Scott  is  certainly  better,  and  has  promised  not  to  attempt  quit- 
ting her  room. 

Henry  Scott  has  been  here,  and  his  canvass  cames  on  like  a  moor 
burning. 

April  24. — Good  news  from  Brighton.  Sophia  is  confined  ;  both 
she  and  her  baby  are  doing  well,  and  the  child's  name  is  announced 
to  be  Walter — a  favourite  name  in  our  family,  and  I  trust  of  no  bad 
omen.  Yet  it  is  no  charm  for  life.  Of  my  father's  family  I  was  the 
second  Walter,  if  not  the  third.  I  am  glad  the  name  came  my  way, 
for  it  was  borne  by  my  father,  great-grandfather,  and  great -great- 
grandfather ;  also  by  the  grandsire  of  that  last-named  venerable  per- 
son who  was  the  first  laird  of  Raeburn. 

Hurst  and  Robinson,  the  Yorkshire  tykes,  have  failed  after  all 
their  swaggering,  and  Longman  and  Co.  take  Woodstock.  But  if 
Woodstock  and  Napoleon  take  with  the  public  I  shall  care  little  about 
their  insolvency,  and  if  they  do  not,  I  don't  think  their  solvency 
would  have  lasted  long.  Constable  is  sorely  broken  down. 

"  Poor  fool  and  knave,  I  have  one  part  in  my  heart 
That's  sorry  yet  for  thee."3 

His  conduct  has  not  been  what  I  deserved  at  his  hand,  but,  I  believe 
that,  walking  blindfold  himself,  he  mfsled  me  without  malice  pre- 
pense. It  is  best  to  think  so  at  least,  unless  the  contrary  be  demon- 
strated. To  nourish  angry  passions  against  a  man  whom  I  really 
liked  would  be  to  lay  a  blister  on  my  own  heart. 

April  25. — Having  fallen  behind  on  the  23d,  I  wrought  pretty 
hard  yesterday ;  but  I  had  so  much  reading,  and  so  many  proofs  to 
correct,  that  I  did  not  get  over  the  daily  task,  so  am  still  a  little  be- 
hind, which  I  shall  soon  make  up.  I  have  got  JVo/>.,  d — n  him,  into 

1  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  iv.  Sc.  1.  3  King  Lear,  Act  in.  Sc.  2. 

2  See  Goldsmith's  Comedy,  Act  in. 


118  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

Italy,  where  with  bad  eyes  and  obscure  maps,  I  have  a  little  difficulty 
in  tracing  out  his  victorious  chess-play. 

Lady  Scott  was  better  yesterday,  certainly  better,  and  was  sound 
asleep  when  I  looked  in  this  morning.  Walked  in  the  afternoon.  I 
looked  at  a  hooded  crow  building  in  the  thicket  with  great  pleasure. 
It  is  a  shorter  date  than  niy  neighbour  Torwoodlee1  thought  of,  when 
he  told  me,  as  I  was  bragging  a  little  of  my  plantations,  that  it  would 
be  long  ere  crows  built  in  them. 

April  26. — Letters  from  Walter  and  Lochkarts ;  all  well  and  do- 
ing well.  '  Lady  S.  continues  better,  so  the  clouds  are  breaking  up.  I 
made  a  good  day's  work  yesterday,  and  sent  off  proofs,  letters,  and 
copy  this  morning ;  so,  if  this  fine  day  holds  good,  I  will  take  a  drive 
at  one. 

There  is  an  operation  called  putting  to  rights — Scottice,  redding 
up — which  puts  me  into  a  fever.  I  always  leave  any  attempt  at  it 
half  executed,  and  so  am  worse  off  than  before,  and  have  only  em- 
broiled the  fray.  Then  my  long  back  aches  with  stooping  into  the 
low  drawers  of  old  cabinets,  and  my  neck  is  strained  with  staring  up 
to  their  attics.  Then  you  are  sure  never  to  get  the  thing  you  want. 
I  am  certain  they  creep  about  and  hide  themselves.  Tom  Moore8 
gave  us  the  insurrection  of  the  papers.  That  was  open  war,  but  this 
is  a  system  of  privy  plot  and  conspiracy,  by  which  those  you  seek 
creep  out  of  the  way,  and  those  you  are  not  wanting  perk  themselves 
in  your  face  again  and  again,  until  at  last  you  throw  them  into  some 
corner  in  a  passion,  and  then  they  are  the  objects  of  research  in  their 
turn.  1  have  read  in  a  French  Eastern  tale  of  an  enchanted  person 
called  Uhomme  qui  cherche,  a  sort  of  "Sir  Guy  the  Seeker,"  always 
employed  in  collecting  the  beads  of  a  chaplet,  which,  by  dint  of  gram- 
arye,  always  dispersed  themselves  when  he  was  about  to  fix  the  last 
upon  the  string.  It  was  an  awful  doom ;  transmogrification  into  the 
Laidleyworm  of  Spindlestaneheugh*  would  have  been  a  blessing  in 
comparison.  Now,  the  explanation  of  all  this  is,  that  I  have  been  all 
this  morning  seeking  a  parcel  of  sticks  of  sealing  wax  which  I  brought 
from  Edinburgh,  and  the  "Weel  Brandt  and  Vast  houd"*  has  either 
melted  without  the  agency  of  fire  or  barricaded  itself  within  the 
drawers  of  some  cabinet,  which  has  declared  itself  in  a  state  of  insur- 
rection. A  choice  subject  for  a  journal,  but  what  better  have  I  ? 

I  did  not  quite  finish  my  task  to-day,  nay,  I  only  did  one  third  of 
it.  It  is  so  difficult  to  consult  the  maps  after  candles  are  lighted,  or 
to  read  the  Moniteur,  that  I  was  obliged  to  adjourn.  The  task  is 
three  pages  or  leaves  of  my  close  writing  per  diem,  which  corresponds 

1  James  Pringle,  Convener  of  Selkirkshire  country  legends  were  published  by  M.  G.  Lewis 

for  more  than  half  a  century.    For  an  account  and  Mr.  Lambe,  of  Norham.     ''Sir  Guy,"  in 

of  the  Pringles  of  Torwoodlee,  see  Mr.  Craig  the  Tales  of  Wonder,  and  "The  Worm,"  in  Rit- 

Brown's  History  of  Selkirkshire,  vol.  i.  pp.  459-  son's  Northumberland  Garland.  —  See  Child's 

470.  English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  8  vols.  12mo,  Bos- 

"  "The  Insurrection  of  the  Papers — a  Dream."  ton,  1857,  vol.  i.  p.  386. 

The  Twopenny  Post-Bag,  12mo,  London,  1812.  *  Fyn  Segellak  wel  brand  en  vast  houd :  old 

a  The  well-known  ballads  on  these  two  North-  brand  used  by  sealing-wax  makers. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  119 

to  about  a  sheet  (16  pages)  of  Woodstock,  and  about  12  of  Bonaparte, 
which  is  a  more  comprehensive  page.  But  I  was  not  idle  neither,  and 
wrote  some  Balaam1  for  Lockhart's  Review.  Then  I  was  in  hand  a 
leaf  above  the  tale,  so  I  am  now  only  a  leaf  behind  it. 

April  27. — This  is  one  of  those  abominable  April  mornings  which 
deserve  the  name  of  Sans  Cullotides,  as  being  cold,  beggarly,  coarse, 
savage,  and  intrusive.  The  earth  lies  an  inch  deep  with  snow,  to  the 
confusion  of  the  worshippers  of  Flora.  By  the  way,  Bogie  attended 
his  professional  dinner  and  show  of  flowers  at  Jedburgh  yesterday. 
Here  is  a  beautiful  sequence  to  their  floralla.  It  is  this  uncertainty 
in  April,  arid  the  descent  of  snow  and  frost  when  one  thinks  them- 
selves clear  of  them,  and  that  after  fine  encouraging  weather,  that  de- 
stroys our  Scottish  fruits  and  flowers.  It  is  as  imprudent  to  attach 
yourself  to  flowers  in  Scotland  as  to  a  caged  bird ;  the  cat,  sooner  or 
later,  snaps  up  one,  and  these — Sans  Cullotides — annihilate  the  other. 
It  was  but  yesterday  I  was  admiring  the  glorious  flourish  of  the  pears 
and  apricots,  and  now  hath  come  the  killing  frost.2 

But  let  it  freeze  without,  we  are  comfortable  within.  Lady  Scott 
continues  better,  and,  we  may  hope,  has  got  the  turn  of  her  disease. 

April  28. — Beautiful  morning,  but  ice  as  thick  as  pasteboard,  too 
surely  showing  that  the  night  has  made  good  yesterday's  threat.  Dalg- 
leish,  with  his  most  melancholy  face,  conveys  the  most  doleful  tidings 
from  Bogie.  But  servants  are  fond  of  the  woful,  it  gives  such  conse- 
quence to  the  person  who  communicates  bad  news. 

Wrote  two  letters  and  read  till  twelve,  and  then  for  a  stout  walk 
among  the  plantations  till  four.  Found  Lady  Scott  obviously  better, 
I  think,  than  I  had  left  her  in  the  morning.  In  walking  I  am  like  a 
spavined  horse,  and  heat  as  I  get  on.  The  flourishing  plantations 
around  me  are  a  great  argument  for  me  to  labour  hard.  "  Barbarus 
has  segetes  ?"  I  will  write  my  finger-ends  off  first. 

April  29. — I  was  always  afraid,  privately,  that  Woodstock  would 
not  stand  the  test.  In  that  case  my  fate  would  have  been  that  of 
the  unfortunate  minstrel  trumpeter  Maclean  at  the  battle  of  Sheriff- 
muir — 

"  By  misfortune  he  happened  to  fa',  man ; 
By  saving  his  neck 
His  trumpet  did  break, 
And  came  off  without  music  at  a',  man." 3 

J.  B.  corroborated  my  doubts  by  his  raven-like  croaking  and  criticis- 
ing ;  but  the  good  fellow  writes  me  this  morning  that  he  is  written 
down  an  ass,  and  that  the  approbation  is  unanimous.  It  is  but  Edin- 
burgh, to  be  sure ;  but  Edinburgh  has  always  been  a  harder  critic 
than  London.  It  is  a  great  mercy,  and  gives  encouragement  for  fut- 

1  Balaam  is  the  cant  name  in  a  Newspaper  of  the  day  leaves  an  awkward  space  that  must 

Office  for  asinine  paragraphs,  about  monstrous  be  filled  up  somehow. — j.  G.  L. 

productions  of  Nature  and  the  like,  kept  stand-  '•<  Henry  VIII.  Act  in.  Sc.  2. 

ing  in  type  to  be  used  whenever  the  real  news  3  Ritson,  Scottish  Songs,  xvi. 


120  JOURNAL  [APRIL,  1826. 

ure  exertion.  Having  written  two  leaves  this  morning,  I  think  I  will 
turn  out  to  my  walk,  though  two  hours  earlier  than  usual.  Egad,  I 
could  not  persuade  myself  that  it  was  such  bad  Balaam  after  all. 

April  30. — I  corrected  this  morning  a  quantity  of  proofs  and  copy, 
and  dawdled  about  a  little,  the  weather  of  late  becoming  rather  mild- 
er, though  not  much  of  that.  Methinks  Duty  looks  as  if  she  were  but 
half-pleased  with  me ;  but  would  the  Pagan  bitch  have  me  work  on 
the  Sunday. 


MAY 

May  1.  —  I  walked  to-day  to  the  western  corner  of  the  Chief  swood 
plantation,  and  marked  out  a  large  additional  plantation  to  be  drawn 
along  the  face  of  the  hill.  It  cost  me  some  trouble  to  carry  the 
boundaries  out  of  the  eye,  for  nothing  is  so  paltry  as  a  plantation  of 
almost  any  extent  if  its  whole  extent  lies  defined  to  the  eye.  By 
availing  myself  of  the  undulations  of  the  ground  I  think  I  have  avoid- 
ed this  for  the  present  ;  only  when  seen  from  the  Eildon  Hills  the 
cranks  and  turns  of  the  enclosure  will  seem  fantastic,  at  least  until 
the  trees  get  high. 

This  cost  Tom  and  me  three  or  four  hours.  Lieut.-Colonel  Fer- 
guson joined  us  as  we  went  home,  and  dined  at  Abbotsford. 

My  cousin,  Barbara  Scott  of  Kaeburn,  came  here  to  see  Lady  S. 
I  think  she  was  shocked  with  the  melancholy  change.  She  insisted 
upon  walking  back  to  Lessudden  House,  making  her  walk  16  or  18 
miles,  and  though  the  carriage  was  ordered  she  would  not  enter  it. 

May  2.  —  Yesterday  was  a  splendid  May  day  —  to-day  seems  inclined 
to  be  soft,  as  we  call  it  ;  but  tant  mieux.  Yesterday  had  a  twang  of 
frost  in  it.  I  must  get  to  work  and  finish  Boaden's  Life  of  Kemble, 
and  Kelley's  Reminiscences,1  for  the  Quarterly. 

I  wrote  and  read  for  three  hours,  and  then  walked,  the  day  being 
soft  and  delightful  ;  but  alas  !  all  my  walks  are  lonely  from  the  ab- 
sence of  my  poor  companion.  She  does  not  suffer,  thank  God,  but 
strength  must  fail  at  last.  Since  Sunday  there  has  been  a  gradual 
change  —  very  gradual  —  but,  alas!  to  the  worse.  My  hopes  are  al- 
most gone.  But  I  am  determined  to  stand  this  grief  as  I  have  done 
others. 

May  3.  —  Another  fine  morning.  I  answered  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Handley,  who  has  taken  the  pains  to  rummage  the  Chancery  Records 
until  he  has  actually  discovered  the  fund  due  to  Lady  Scott's  mother, 
£12,000  ;  it  seems  to  have  been  invested  in  the  estates  of  a  Mr.  Owen, 
as  it  appears  for  Madame  Charpentier's  benefit,  but,  she  dying,  the 
fund  was  lost  sight  of  and  got  into  Chancery,  where  I  suppose  it 
must  have  accumulated,  but  I  cannot  say  I  understand  the  matter  ; 
at  a  happier  moment  the  news  would  have  given  poor  Charlotte  much 
pleasure,  but  now  —  it  is  a  day  too  late. 

May  4.  —  On  visiting  Lady  Scott's  sick-room  this  morning  I  found 
her  suffering,  and  I  doubt  if  she  knew  me.  Yet,  after  breakfast,  she 


\msc 


See  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,  vol.  xx.  pp.  152-244,  or  Quarterly  Review  No.  67,  Kelly's  Rem~ 

'fp->tr09 


122  JOURNAL  [MAY 

seemed  serene  and  composed.  The  worst  is,  she  will  not  speak  out 
about  the  symptoms  under  which  she  labours.  Sad,  sad  work ;  I  am 
under  the  most  melancholy  apprehension,  for  what  constitution  can 
hold  out  under  these  continued  and  wasting  attacks  ? 

My  niece,  Anne  Scott,  a  prudent,  sensible,  and  kind  young  woman, 
arrived  to-day,  having  come  down  to  assist  us  in  our  distress  so  far  as 
Cheltenham.  This  is  a  great  consolation. 

May  5. — Haunted  by  gloomy  thoughts;  but  I  corrected  proofs 
from  seven  to  ten,  and  wrote  from  half-past  ten  to  one.  My  old 
friend  Sir  Adam  called,  and  took  a  long  walk  with  me,  which  was 
charity.  His  gaiety  rubbed  me  up  a  little.  I  had  also  a  visit  from  the 
Laird  and  Lady  of  Harden.  Henry  Scott  carries  the  county  without 
opposition. 

May  6. — The  same  scene  of  hopeless  (almost)  and  unavailing  anx- 
iety. Still  welcoming  me  with  a  smile,  and  asserting  she  is  better. 
I  fear  the  disease  is  too  deeply  entwined  with  the  principles  of  life. 
Yet  the  increase  of  good  weather,  especially  if  it  would  turn  more 
genial,  might,  I  think,  aid  her  excellent  constitution.  Still  labouring 
at  this  Review,  without  heart  or  spirits  to  finish  it.  I  am  a  tolerable 
Stoic,  but  preach  to  myself  in  vain. 

"  Since  these  things  are  necessities, 
Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities." ' 

And  so  we  will. 

May  7. — Hammered  on  at  the  Review  till  my  backbone  ached. 
But  I  believe  it  was  a  nervous  affection,  for  a  walk  cured  it.  Sir 
Adam  and  the  Colonel  dined  here.  So  I  spent  the  evening  as  pleas- 
antly as  I  well  could,  considering  I  am  so  soon  to  leave  my  own  house, 
and  go  like  a  stranger  to  the  town  of  which  I  have  been  so  long  a 
citizen,  and  leave  my  wife  lingering,  without  prospect  of  recovery,  un- 
der the  charge  of  two  poor  girls.  Talia  cogit  dura  necessitous. 

May  8. — I  went  over  to  the  election  at  Jedburgh.  There  was  a 
numerous  meeting;  the  Whigs,  who  did  not  bring  ten  men  to  the 
meeting,  of  course  took  the  whole  matter  under  their  patronage, 
which  was  much  of  a  piece  with  the  Blue  Bottle  drawing  the  car- 
riage. I  tried  to  pull  up  once  or  twice,  but  quietly,  having  no  desire 
to  disturb  the  quiet  of  the  election.  To  see  the  difference  of  modern 
times !  We  had  a  good  dinner,  and  excellent  wine ;  and  I  had  or- 
dered my  carriage  at  half -past  seven,  almost  ashamed  to  start  so  soon. 
Everybody  dispersed  at  so  early  an  hour,  however,  that  when  Henry 
had  left  the  chair,  there  was  no  carriage  for  me,  and  Peter  proved  his 
accuracy  by  showing  me  it  was  but  a  quarter-past  seven.  In  the  days 
I  remember  they  would  have  kept  it  up  till  day-light ;  nor  do  I  think 
poor  Don  would  have  left  the  chair  before  midnight.  Well,  there  is 
a  medium.  Without  being  a  veteran  Vice,  a  grey  Iniquity,  like  Fal- 

1  2  Henry  IV.,  Act  in.  Sc.  1,  slightly  altered. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  123 

staff,  I  think  an  occasional  jolly  bout,  if  not  carried  to  excess,  improved 
society ;  men  were  put  into  good  humour ;  when  the  good  wine  did 
its  good  office,  the  jest,  the  song,  the  speech,  had  double  effect ;  men 
were  happy  for  the  night,  and  better  friends  ever  after,  because  they 
had  been  so. 

May  9. — My  new  Liverpool  neighbour,  Mr.  Bainbridge,  breakfasts 
here  to-day  with  some  of  his  family.  They  wish  to  try  the  fishing  in 
Cauldshields  Loch,  and  [there  is]  promise  of  a  .fine  soft  morning.  But 
the  season  is  too  early. 

They  have  had  no  sport  accordingly  after  trying  with  Trimmers. 
Mr.  Bainbridge  is  a  good  cut  of  John  Bull — plain,  sensible,  and 
downright ;  the  maker  of  his  own  fortune,  and  son  of  his  own  works. 

May  10. — To-morrow  I  leave  my  home.  To  what  scene  I  may 
suddenly  be  recalled,  it  wrings  my  heart  to  think.  If  she  would  but 
be  guided  by  the  medical  people,  and  attend  rigidly  to  their  orders, 
something  might  be  hoped,  but  she  is  impatient  with  the  protracted 
suffering,  and  no  wonder.  Anne  has  a  severe  task  to  perform,  but 
the  assistance  of  her  cousin  is  a  great  comfort.  Baron  Weber,  the 
great  composer,  wants  me  (through  Lockhart)  to  compose  something 
to  be  set  to  music  by  him,  and  sung  by  Miss  Stephens — as  if  I  cared 
who  set  or  who  sung  any  lines  of  mine.  I  have  recommended  in- 
stead Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  unrivalled  song  in  the  Nice  Valour : 

"  Hence,  all  ye  vain  delights,"  etc. 
[Edinburgh,*]  May  11. — 

"  Der  Abschiedstag  ist  da, 
Schwer  liegt  er  auf  den  Herzen — schwer."1 

Charlotte  was  unable  to  take  leave  of  me,  being  in  a  sound  sleep, 
after  a  very  indifferent  night.  Perhaps  it  was  as  well.  Emotion 
might  have  hurt  her ;  and  nothing  I  could  have  expressed  would  have 
been  worth  the  risk.  I  have  foreseen,  for  two  years  and  more,  that 
this  menaced  event  could  not  be  far  distant.  I  have  seen  plainly, 
within  the  last  two  months,  that  recovery  was  hopeless.  And  yet  to 
part  with  the  companion  of  twenty-nine  years  when  so  very  ill — that 
I  did  not,  could  not  foresee.3  It  withers  my  heart  to  think  of  it,  and 
to  recollect  that  I  can  hardly  hope  again  to  seek  confidence  and 
counsel  from  that  ear  to  which  all  might  be  safely  confided.  But  in 
her  present  lethargic  state,  what  would  my  attentions  have  availed  ? 

1  [Mrs.  Brown's  Lodgings,  No.  C  North  St.  s  Scott  had  written : — "  and  yet  to  part  with 

David  Street.]  the  companion  of  twenty  years  just  six,"  and 

*  This  is  the  opening  couplet  of  a  German  had  then  deleted  the  three  words,  "years  just 

trooper's  song,  alluded  to  in  Life,  vol.  ii.  p.  13.  six,"  and   written  "nine"  above  them.     It 

The  literal  translation  is:—  looks  as  if  he  had  meant  at  first  to  refer  to  the 

change  in  his  fortunes,  "just  six  "  MONTHS  be- 

"The  day  of  departure  is  com-  •  fore.  and  nad  afterwards  thought  it  better  to 

He»Ty  liw  it  uu  tii«  he«ru— teavy."  refrain.    This  would  account  lor  a  certain  ob- 

— j.  o.  L.  scurity  of  meaning. 


124  JOURNAL  [MAY 

and  Anne  has  promised  close  and  constant  intelligence.  I  must  dine 
with  James  Ballantyne  to-day  en  famille.  I  cannot  help  it ;  but  would 
rather  be  at  home  and  alone.  However,  I  can  go  out  too.  I  will  not 
yield  to  the  barren  sense  of  hopelessness  which  struggles  to  invade 
me.  I  passed  a  pleasant  day  with  honest  J.  B.,  which  was  a  great  re- 
lief from  the  black  dog  which  would  have  worried  me  at  home.  We 
were  quite  alone. 

[Edinburgh,]  May  12. — Well,  here  I  am  in  Arden.  And  I  may 
say  with  Touchstone,  "  When  I  was  at  home  I  was  in  a  better 
place," '  and  yet  this  is  not  by  any  means  to  be  complained  of.  Good 
apartments,  the  people  civil  and  apparently  attentive.  No  appearance 
of  smoke,  and  absolute  warrandice  against  my  dreaded  enemies,  bugs. 
I  must,  when  there  is  occasion,  draw  to  my  own  Bailie  Nicol  Jarvie's 
consolation,  "  One  cannot  carry  the  comforts  of  the  Saut-Market  about 
with  one."  Were  I  at  ease  in  mind,  I  think  the  body  is  very  well 
cared  for.  I  have  two  steady  servants,  a  man  and  woman,  and  they 
seem  to  set  out  sensibly  enough.  Only  one  lodger  in  the  house,  a  Mr. 
Shandy,  a  clergyman  ;  and  despite  his  name,  said  to  be  a  quiet  one. 

May  13. — The  projected  measure  against  the  Scottish  bank-notes 
has  been  abandoned,  the  resistance  being  general.  Malachi  might 
clap  his  wings  upon  this,  but,  alas !  domestic  anxiety  has  cut  his 
comb. 

I  think  very  lightly  in  general  of  praise ;  it  costs  men  nothing, 
and  is  usually  only  lip-salve.  They  wish  to  please,  and  must  suppose 
that  flattery  is  the  ready  road  to  the  good  will  of  every  professor  of 
literature.  Some  praise,  however,  and  from  some  people,  does  at  once 
delight  and  strengthen  the  mind,  and  I  insert  in  this  place  the  quota- 
tion with  which  Ld.  C.  Baron  Shepherd  concluded  a  letter  concerning 
me  to  the  Chief  Commissioner :  "  Magna  etiam  ilia  laus  et  admira- 
bilis  videri  solet  tulisse  casus  sapienter  adversos,  non  fractum  esse  fortu- 
nd,  retinuisse  in  rebus  asperis  dignitatem" a  I  record  these  words,  not 
as  meriting  the  high  praise  they  imply,  but  to  remind  me  that  such 
an  opinion  being  partially  entertained  of  me  by  a  man  of  a  character 
so  eminent,  it  becomes  me  to  make  my  conduct  approach  as  much  as 
possible  to  the  standard  at  which  he  rates  it. 

As -I  must  pay  back  to  Terry  some  cash  in  London,  £170,  together 
with  other  matters  here,  I  have  borrowed  from  Mr.  Alexander  Ballan- 
tyne the  sum  of  £500,  upon  a  promissory  note  for  £512,  10s.  payable 
15th  November  to  him  or  his  order.  If  God  should  call  me  before 
that  time,  I  request  my  son  Walter  will,  in  reverence  to  my  memory, 
see  that  Mr.  Alexander  Ballantyne  does  not  suffer  for  having  obliged 
me  in  a  sort  of  exigency — he  cannot  afford  it,  and  God  has  given  my 
son  the  means  to  repay  him. 

May  14. — A  fair  good-morrow  to  you,  Mr.  Sun,  who  are  shining 
so  brightly  on  these  dull  walls.  Me  thinks  you  look  as  if  you  were 

»  As  You  Like  It,  Act  n.  Sc.  4.  2  Cicero,  de  Or  at.  ii.  p.  346.— j.  c.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  125 

looking  as  bright  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed ;  but  look  where  you 
will,  Sir  Sun,  you  look  upon  sorrow  and  suffering.  Hogg  was  here 
yesterday  in  danger,  from  having  obtained  an  accommodation  of 
£100  from  Mr.  Ballantyne,  which  he  is  now  obliged  to  repay.  I  am 
unable  to  help,  the  poor  fellow,  being  obliged  to  borrow  myself.  But 
I  long  ago  remonstrated  against  the  transaction  at  all,  and  gave  him 
£50  out  of  my  pocket  to  avoid  granting  the  accommodation,  but  it 
did  no  good. 

May  15. — Received  the  melancholy  intelligence  that  all  is  over 
at  Abbotsford. 

[Abbotsford,~\  May  16. — She  died  at  nine  in  the  morning,  after  be- 
ing very  ill  for  two  days, — easy  at  last. 

I  arrived  here  late  last  night.  Anne  is  worn  out,  and  has  had 
hysterics,  which  returned  on  my  arrival.  Her  broken  accents  were 
like  those  of  a  child,  the  language,  as  well  as  the  tones,  broken,  but 
in  the  most  gentle  voice  of  submission.  "  Poor  mamma — never  re- 
turn again — gone  for  ever — a  better  place."  Then,  when  she  came 
to  herself,  she  spoke  with  sense,  freedom,  and  strength  of  mind,  till 
her  weakness  returned.  It  would  have  been  inexpressibly  moving  to 
me  as  a  stranger — what  was  it  then  to  the  father  and  the  husband  ? 
For  myself,  I  scarce  know  how  I  feel,  sometimes  as  firm  as  the  Bass 
Rock,  sometimes  as  weak  as  the  wave  that  breaks  on  it. 

I  am  as  alert  at  thinking  and  deciding  as  I  ever  was  in  my  life. 
Yet,  when  I  contrast  what  this  place  now  is,  with  what  it  has  been 
not  long  since,  I  think  my  heart  will  break.  Lonely,  aged,  deprived 
of  my  family — all  but  poor  Anne,  an  impoverished  and  embarrassed 
man,  I  am  deprived  of  the  sharer  of  my  thoughts  and  counsels,  who 
could  always  talk  down  my  sense  of  the  calamitous  apprehensions 
which  break  the  heart  that  must  bear  them  alone.  Even  her  foibles 
were  of  service  to  me,  by  giving  me  things  to  think  of  beyond  my 
weary  self-reflections. 

I  have  seen  her.  The  figure  I  beheld  is,  and  is  not,  my  Charlotte 
— my  thirty  years'  companion.  There  is  the  same  symmetry  of  form, 
though  those  limbs  are  rigid  which  were  once  so  gracefully  elastic — 
but  that  yellow  masque,  with  pinched  features,  which  seems  to  mock 
life  rather  than  emulate  it,  can  it  be  the  face  that  was  once  so  full  of 
lively  expression  ?  I  will  not  look  on  it  again.  Anne  thinks  her  little 
changed,  because  the  latest  idea  she  had  formed  of  her  mother  is  as 
she  appeared  under  circumstances  of  sickness  and. pain.  Mine  go 
back  to  a  period  of  comparative  health.  If  I  write  long  in  this  way, 
I  shall  write  down  my  resolution,  which  I  should  rather  write  up,  if  I 
could.  I  wonder  how  I  shall  do  with  the  large  portion  of  thoughts 
which  were  hers  for  thirty  years.  I  suspect  they  will  be  hers  yet  for 
a  long  time  at  least.  But  I  will  not  blaze  cambric  and  crape  in  the 
public  eye  like  a  disconsolate  widower,  that  most  affected  of  all 
characters. 

May  17. — Last  night  Anne,  after  conversing  with  apparent  ease, 


126  JOURNAL  [MAY 

dropped  suddenly  down  as  she  rose  from  the  supper-table,  and  lay 
six  or  seven  minutes  as  if  dead.  Clarkson,  however,  has  no  fear  of 
these  affections. 

May  1 8. — Another  day,  and  a  bright  one  to  the  external  world, 
again  opens  on  us ;  the  air  soft,  and  the  flowers  smiling,  and  the 
leaves  glittering.  They  cannot  refresh  her  to  whom  mild  weather 
was  a  natural  enjoyment.  Cerements  of  lead  and  of  wood  already 
hold  her ;  cold  earth  must  have  her  soon.  But  it  is  not  my  Charlotte, 
it  is  not  the  bride  of  my  youth,  the  mother  of  my  children,  that  will 
be  laid  among  the  ruins  of  Dryburgh,  which  we  have  so  often  visited 
in  gaiety  and  pastime.  No,  no.  She  is  sentient  and  conscious  of  my 
emotions  somewhere — somehow ;  where  we  cannot  tell ;  hotv  we  can- 
not tell ;  yet  would  I  not  at  this  moment  renounce  the  mysterious  yet 
certain  hope  that  I  shall  see  her  in  a  better  world,  for  all  that  this 
world  can  give  me.  The  necessity  of  this  separation, — that  neces- 
sity which  rendered  it  even  a  relief, — that  and  patience  must  be  my 
comfort.  I  do  not  experience  those  paroxysms  of  grief  which  others 
do  on  the  same  occasion.  I  can  exert  myself  and  speak  even  cheer- 
fully with  the  poor  girls.  But  alone,  or  if  anything  touches  me — the 
choking  sensation.  I  have  been  to  her  room :  there  was  no  voice  in 
it — no  stirring ;  the  pressure  of  the  coffin  was  visible  on  the  bed,  but 
it  had  been  removed  elsewhere ;  all  was  neat  as  she  loved  it,  but  all 
was  calm — calm  as  death.  I  remembered  the  last  sight  of  her  ;  she 
raised  herself  in  bed,  and  tried  to  turn  her  eyes  after  me,  and  said, 
with  a  sort  of  smile,  "  You  all  have  such  melancholy  faces."  They 
were  the  last  words  I  ever  heard  her  utter,  and  I  hurried  away,  for  she 
did  not  seem  quite  conscious  of  what  she  said.  When  I  returned, 
immediately  [before]  departing,  she  was  in  a  deep  sleep.  It  is  deeper 
now.  This  was  but  seven  days  since. 

They  are  arranging  the  chamber  of  death ;  that  which  was  long 
the  apartment  of  connubial  happiness,  and  of  whose  arrangements 
(better  than  in  richer  houses)  she  was  so  proud.  They  are  treading 
fast  and  thick.  For  weeks  you  could  have  heard  a  foot-fall.  Oh,  my 
God! 

May  19. — Anne,  poor  love,  is  ill  with  her  exertions  and  agitation 
— cannot  walk — and  is  still  hysterical,  though  less  so.  I  advised 
flesh-brush  and  tepid  bath,  which  I  think  will  bring  her  about.  AVe 
speak  freely  of  her  whom  we  have  lost,  and  mix  her  name  with  our 
ordinary  conversation.  This  is  the  rule  of  nature.  All  primitive 
people  speak  of  their  dead,  and  I  think  virtuously  and  wisely.  The 
idea  of  blotting  the  names  of  those  who  are  gone  out  of  the  language 
and  familiar  discourse  of  those  to  whom  they  were  dearest  is  one  of 
the  rules  of  ultra-civilisation  which,  in  so  many  instances,  strangle 
natural  feeling  by  way  of  avoiding  a  painful  sensation.  The  High- 
landers speak  of  their  dead  children  as  freely  as  of  their  living,  and 
mention  how  poor  Colin  or  Robert  would  have  acted  in  such  or  such 
a  situation.  It  is  a  generous  and  manly  tone  of  feeling ;  and,  so  far 


1826.J  JOURNAL  127 

as  it  may  be  adopted  without  affectation  or  contradicting  the  general 
habits  of  society,  I  reckon  on  observing  it. 

May  20. — To-night,  I  trust,  will  bring  Charles  or  Lockhart,  or 
both ;  at  least  I  must  hear  from  them.  A  letter  from  Violet  [Lock- 
hart]  gave  us  the  painful  intelligence  that  she  had  not  mentioned  to 
Sophia  the  dangerous  state  in  which  her  mother  was.  Most  kindly 
meant,  but  certainly  not  so  well  judged.  I  have  always  thought  that 
truth,  even  when  painful,  is  a  great  duty  on  such  occasions,  and  it  is 
seldom  that  concealment  is  justifiable. 

Sophia's  baby  was  christened  on  Sunday,  14th  May,  at  Brighton, 
by  the  name  of  Walter  Scott.1  May  God  give  him  life  and  health  to 
wear  it  with  credit  to  himself  and  those  belonging  to  him.  Melan- 
choly to  think  that  the  next  morning  after  this  ceremony  deprived 
him  of  so  near  a  relation.  Sent  Mr.  Curie  £11  to  remit  Mrs.  Bohn, 
York  Street,  Covent  Garden,  for  books — I  thought  I  had  paid  the 
poor  woman  before. 

May  21. — Our  sad  preparations  for  to-morrow  continue.  A  let- 
ter from  Lockhart;  doubtful  if  Sophia's  health  or  his  own  state  of 
business  will  let  him  be  here.  If  things  permit  he  comes  to-night. 
From  Charles  not  a  word ;  but  I  think  I  may  expect  him.  I  wish  to- 
morrow were  over ;  not  that  I  fear  it,  for  my  nerves  are  pretty  good, 
but  it  will  be  a  day  of  many  recollections. 

May  22. — Charles  arrived  last  night,  much  affected  of  course. 
Anne  had  a  return  of  her  fainting-fits  on  seeing  him,  and  again  upon 
seeing  Mr.  Ramsay,  the  gentleman  who  performs  the  service.2  I  heard 
him  do  so  with  the  utmost  propriety  for  my  late  friend,  Lady  Alvan- 
ley,3  the  arrangement  of  whose  funeral  devolved  upon  me.  How  lit- 
tle I  could  guess  when,  where,  and  with  respect  to  whom  I  should 
next  hear  those  solemn  words.  Well,  I  am  not  apt  to  shrink  from 
that  which  is  my  duty,  merely  because  it  is  painful;  but  I  wish  this 
day  over.  A  kind  of  cloud  of  stupidity  hangs  about  me,  as  if  all 
were  unreal  that  men  seem  to  be  doing  and  talking  about. 

May  23. — About  an  hour  before  the  mournful  ceremony  of  yes- 
terday, Walter  arrived,  having  travelled  express  from  Ireland  on  re- 
ceiving the  news.  He  was  much  affected,  poor  fellow,  and  no  wonder. 
Poor  Charlotte  nursed  him,  and  perhaps  for  that  reason  she  was  ever 
partial  to  him.  The  whole  scene  floats  as  a  sort  of  dream  before  me 
— the  beautiful  day,  the  grey  ruins  covered  and  hidden  among  clouds 
of  foliage  arid  flourish,  where  the  grave,  even  in  the  lap  of  beauty, 
lay  lurking  and  gaped  for  its  prey.  Then  the  grave  looks,  the  hasty 
important  bustle  of  men  with  spades  and  mattocks — the  train  of  car- 

1  AValter  Scott  Lockhart,  died  at  Versailles  loved  "Dean  Ramsay,"  author  of  Reminis- 
in  1853,  and  was  buried  in  the  Cemetery  of  cences  of  Scottish  Life  and  Character.    This 
Notre- Dame  there.  venerable  Scottish  gentleman  was  for  many 

2  The  Rev.    Edward   Bannerman    Ramsay,  years  the  delight  of  all  who  had  the  privilege 
A.M.,  St.  John's   College,  Cambridge,  incum-  of  knowing  him.    He  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
bent  St.  John's,  Edinburgh,  afterwards  Dean  three  in  his  house,  23  Ainslie  Place,  Edinburgh, 
of  the  Diocese  in  the  Scots  Episcopal  Church,  Dec.  27th,  1872. 

and  still  more  widely  known  as  the  much-          3  See  Life,  vol.  iv.  p.  2. 


128  JOURNAL  [MAY 

riages — the  coffin  containing  the  creature  that  was  so  long  the  dear- 
est on  earth  to  me,  and  whom  I  was  to  consign  to  the  very  spot 
which  in  pleasure-parties  we  so  frequently  visited.  It  seems  still  as 
if  this  could  not  be  really  so.  But  it  is  so — and  duty  to  God  and  to 
my  children  must  teach  me  patience. 

Poor  Anne  has  had  longer  fits  since  our  arrival  from  Dryburgh 
than  before,  but  yesterday  was  the  crisis.  She  desired  to  hear  prayers 
read  by  Mr.  Ramsay,  who  performed  the  duty  in  a  most  solemn  man- 
ner. But  her  strength  could  not  carry  it  through.  She  fainted  be- 
fore the  service  was  concluded.1 

May  24. — Slept  wretchedly,  or  rather  waked  wretchedly,  all  night, 
and  was  very  sick  and  bilious  in  consequence,  and  scarce  able  to  hold 
up  my  head  with  pain.  A  walk,  however,  with  my  sons  did  me  a 
great  deal  of  good ;  indeed  their  society  is  the  greatest  support  the 
world  can  afford  me.  Their  ideas  of  everything  are  so  just  and  hon- 
ourable, kind  towards  their  sisters,  and  affectionate  to  me,  that  I  must 
be  grateful  to  God  for  sparing  them  to  me,  and  continue  to  battle 
with  the  world  for  their  sakes,  if  not  for  my  own. 

May  25. — I  had  sound  sleep  to-night,  and  waked  with  little  or 
nothing  of  the  strange,  dreamy  feeling  which  made  me  for  some  days 
feel  like  one  bewildered  in  a  country  where  mist  or  snow  has  dis- 
guised those  features  of  the  landscape  which  are  best  known  to  him. 

Walter  leaves  me  to-day ;  he  seems  disposed  to  take  interest  in 
country  affairs,  which  will  be  an  immense  resource,  supposing  him  to 
tire  of  the  army  in  a  few  years.  Charles,  he  and  I,  went  up  to  Ashe- 
stiel  to  call  upon  the  Misses  Russell,  who  have  kindly  promised  to  see 
Anne  on  Tuesday.  This  evening  Walter  left  us,  being  anxious  to  re- 
turn to  his  wife  as  well  as  to  his  regiment.  We  expect  he  will  be 
here  early  in  autumn,  with  his  household. 

May  26. — A  rough  morning,  and  makes  me  think  of  St.  George's 
Channel,  which  Walter  must  cross  to-night  or  to-morrow  to  get  to 
Athlone.  The  wind  is  almost  due  east,  however,  and  the  channel  at 
the  narrowest  point  between  Port-Patrick  and  Donaghadee.  His  ab- 
sence is  a  great  blank  in  our  circle,  especially,  I  think,  to  his  sister 
Anne,  to  whom  he  shows  invariably  much  kindness.  But  indeed 
they  do  so  without  exception  each  towards  the  other ;  and  in  weal  or 
woe  have  shown  themselves  a  family  of  love.  No  persuasion  could 

1  Mr.  Skenc  has  preserved  the  following  note  at  the  munus  inane  ;  their  presence  will  rto  her 

written  on  this  day: — "I  take  the  advantage  much  good,  but  I  cannot  think  of  leaving  her 

of  Mr.  Ramsay's  return  to  Edinburgh  to  an-  till  Monday  next,  nor  could  I  do  my  brethren 

swer  your  kind  letter.    It  would  have  done  no  much  good  by  coming  to  town,  having  still 

good  to  have  brought  you  here  when  I  could  that  stunned  and  giddy  feeling  which  great  ca- 

not  have  enjoyed  your  company,  and  there  lamities  necessarily  produce.    It  will  soon  give 

were  enough  friends  here  to  ensure  everything  way  to  my  usual  state  of  mind,  and  my  friends 

being  properly  adjusted.    Anne,  contrary  to  a  will  not  find  me  much  different  from  what  I 

natural  weakness  of  temper,  is  quite  quiet  and  have  usually  been. 

resigned  to  her  distress,  but  has  been  visited          "Mr.  Ramsay,  who  I  find  is  a  friend  of 

by  many  fainting  fits,  the  eflect,  I  am  told,  of  yours,  appears  an  excellent  young  man.— My 

weakness,  over-exertion,  and  distress  of  mind.  kind  love  to  Mrs.  Skene,  and  am  always,  yours 

Her  brothers  are  both  here— Walter  having  ar-  truly,  WALTER  SCOTT." 

rived  from  Ireland  yesterday  in  time  to  assist         "  ABBOTSTOBD,  834  May." 


1826.]  JOURNAL  129 

force  on  Walter  any  of  his  poor  mother's  ornaments  for  his  wife.  He 
undid  a  reading-glass  from  the  gold  chain  to  which  it  was  suspended, 
and  agreed  to  give  the  glass  to  Jane,  but  would  on  no  account  retain 
the  chain.  I  will  go  to  town  on  Monday  and  resume  my  labours. 
Being  of  a  grave  nature,  they  cannot  go  against  the  general  temper 
of  my  feelings,  and  in  other  respects  the  exertion,  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, will  do  me  good ;  besides,  I  must  re-establish  my  fortune  for 
the  sake  of  the  children,  and  of  my  own  character.  I  have  not  lei- 
sure to  indulge  the  disabling  and  discouraging  thoughts  that  press 
on  me.  Were  an  enemy  coming  upon  my  house,  would  I  not  do  my 
best  to  fight,  although  oppressed  in  spirits,  and  shall  a  similar  de- 
spondency prevent  me  from  mental  exertion  ?  It  shall  not,  by  Heaven ! 
This  day  and  to-morrow  I  give  to  the  currency  of  the  ideas  which 
have  of  late  occupied  my  mind,  and  with  Monday  they  shall  be  min- 
gled at  least  with  other  thoughts  and  cares.  Last  night  Charles  and 
I  walked  late  on  the  terrace  at  Kaeside,  when  the  clouds  seemed  ac- 
cumulating in  the  wildest  masses  both  on  the  Eildon  Hills  and  other 
mountains  in  the  distance.  This  rough  morning  reads  the  riddle. 

Dull,  drooping,  cheerless  has  the  day  been.  I  cared  not  to  carry 
my  own  gloom  to  the  girls,  and  so  sate  in  my  own  room,  dawdling 
with  old  papers,  which  awakened  as  many  stings  as  if  they  had  been 
the  nest  of  fifty  scorpions.  Then  the  solitude  seemed  so  absolute — 
my  poor  Charlotte  would  have  been  in  the  room  half-a-score  of  times 
to  see  if  the  fire  burned,  and  to  ask  a  hundred  kind  questions.  Well, 
that  is  over  —  and  if  it  cannot  be  forgotten,  must  be  remembered 
with  patience. 

May  27. — A  sleepless  night.  It  is  time  I  should  be  up  and  be  doing, 
and  a  sleepless  night  sometimes  furnishes  good  ideas.  Alas  !  I  have 
no  companion  now  with  whom  I  can  communicate  to  relieve  the  lone- 
liness of  these  watches  of  the  night.  But  I  must  not  fail  myself  and 
my  family — and  the  necessity  of  exertion  becomes  apparent.  I  must 
try  a  hors  cFasiivre,  something  that  can  go  on  between  the  necessary 
intervals  of  Nap.  Mrs.  M[urray]  K[eith's]  Tale  of  the  Deserter,  with 
her  interview  with  the  fad's  mother,  may  be  made  most  affecting,  but 
will  hardly  endure  much  expansion.1  The  framework  may  be  a  High- 
land tour,  under  the  guardianship  of  the  sort  of  postilion,  whom 
Mrs.  M.  K.  described  to  me  —  a  species  of  conductor-  who  regu- 
lated the  motions  of  his  company,  made  their  halts,  and  was  their 
cicerone. 

May  28. — I  wrote  a  few  pages  yesterday,  and  then  walked.  I  be- 
lieve the  description  of  the  old  Scottish  lady  may  do,  but  the  change 
has  been  unceasingly  rung  upon  Scottish  subjects  of  late,  and  it 
strikes  me  that  the  introductory  matter  may  be  considered  as  an  im- 
itation of  Washington  Irving.  Yet  not  so  neither.  In  short,  I  will 
go  on,  to-day  make  a  dozen  of  close  pages  ready,  and  take  J.  B.'s  ad- 

1  The  Highland  Widow,  Waverley  Novels,  vol.  xlL 


130  JOURNAL  [MAY 

vice.     I  intend  the  work  as  an  olio,  podrida,  into  which  any  species 
of  narrative  or  discussion  may  be  thrown. 

I  wrote  easily.  I  think  the  exertion  has  done  me  good.  I  slept 
sound  last  night,  and  at  waking,  as  is  usual  with  me,  I  found  I  had 
some  clear  views  and  thoughts  upon  the  subject  of  this  trifling  work. 
I  wonder  if  others  find  so  strongly  as  I  do  the  truth  of  the  Latin  prov- 
erb, Aurora  musis  arnica.  If  I  forget  a  thing  over-night,  I  am  sure 
to  recollect  it  as  my  eyes  open  in  the  morning.  The  same  if  I  want  an 
idea,  or  am  encumbered  by  some  difficulty,  the  moment  of  waking 
always  supplies  the  deficiency,  or  gives  me  courage  to  endure  the 
alternative.1 

May  29. — To-day  I  leave  for  Edinburgh  this  house  of  sorrow.  In 
the  midst  of  such  distress,  I  have  the  great  pleasure  to  see  Anne  re- 
gaining her  health,  and  showing  both  patience  and  steadiness  of 
mind.  God  continue  this,  for  my  own  sake  as  well  as  hers.  Much  of 
my  future  comfort  must  depend  upon  her. 

\Edinburgli^\  May  30. — Returned  to  town  last  night  with  Charles. 
This  morning  resume  ordinary  habits  of  rising  early,  working  in  the 
morning,  and  attending  the  Court.  All  will  come  easily  round.  But 
it  is  at  first  as  if  men  looked  strange  on  me,  and  bit  their  lip  when 
they  wring  my  hand,  and  indicated  suppressed  feelings.  It  is  natural 
this  should  be — undoubtedly  it  has  been  so  with  me.  Yet  it  is  strange 
to  find  one's-self  resemble  a  cloud  which  darkens  gaiety  wherever  it 
interposes  its  chilling  shade.  Will  it  be  better  when,  left  to  my  own 
feelings,  I  see  the  whole  world  pipe  and  dance  around  me  ?  I  think 
it  will.  Thus  sympathy  intrudes  on  my  private  affliction. 

I  finished  correcting  the  proofs  for  the  Quarterly ;  it  is  but  a 
flimsy  article,  but  then  the  circumstances  were  most  untoward. 

This  has  been  a  melancholy  day,  most  melancholy.  I  am  afraid 
poor  Charles  found  me  weeping.  I  do  not  know  what  other  folks 
feel,  but  with  me  the  hysterical  passion  that  impels  tears  is  of  terri- 
ble violence — a  sort  of  throttling  sensation — then  succeeded  by  a 
state  of  dreaming  stupidity,  in  which  I  ask  if  my  poor  Charlotte  can 
actually  be  dead.  I  think  I  feel  my  loss  more  than  at  the  first  blow. 

Poor  Charles  wishes  to  come  back  to  study  here  when  his  term 
ends  at  Oxford.  I  can  see  the  motive. 

May  31. — The  melancholy  hours  of  yesterday  must  not  return. 
To  encourage  that  dreamy  state  of  incapacity  is  to  resign  all  author- 
ity over  the  mind,  and  I  have  been  wont  to  say — 

"  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is."2 

I  am  rightful  monarch ;  and,  God  to  aid,  I  will  not  be  dethroned  by 
any  rebellious  passion  that  may  rear  its  standard  against  me.  Such 
are  morning  thoughts,  strong  as  carle-hemp — says  Burns — 

i  See  February  10, 1826.  to  have  been  famous  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

»  This  excellent  philosophical  song  appears      — Percy's  Reliques,  vol.  i.  307.  — j.  o.  i» 


1826.]  JOURNAL  131 

"Come,  firm  Resolve,  take  thou  the  van, 
Thou  stalk  of  carle-hemp  in  man." 

Charles  went  by  the  steam-boat  this  morning  at  six.  We  parted 
last  night  mournfully  on  both  sides.  Poor  boy,  this  is  his  first  seri- 
ous sorrow.  Wrote  this  morning  a  Memorial  on  the  Claims  which 
Constable's  people  prefer  as  to  the  copyrights  of  Woodstock  and  Na- 
poleon.1 

1  See  June  2. 


JUNE 

June  1. — Yesterday  I  also  finished  a  few  trifling  memoranda  on  a 
book  called  The  Omen,  at  Blackwood's  request.  There  is  something 
in  the  work  which  pleases  me,  and  the  style  is  good,  though  the  story 
is  not  artfully  conducted.  I  dined  yesterday  in  family  with  Skene, 
and  had  a  visit  from  Lord  Chief-Commissioner ;  we  met  as  mourners 
under  a  common  calamity.  There  is  something  extremely  kind  in 
his  disposition. 

Sir  R.  D[undas]  offers  me  three  days  of  the  country  next  week, 
which  tempts  me  strongly  were  it  but  the  prospect  of  seeing  Anne. 
But  I  think  I  must  resist  and  say  with  Tilburina, 

"Duty,  I'm  all  thine  own."1 

If  I  do  this  I  shall  deserve  a  holiday  about  the  15th  June,  and  I 
think  it  is  best  to  wait  till  then. 

June  2. — A  pleasant  letter  from  Sophia,  poor  girl ;  all  doing  well 
there,  for  which  God  be  praised. 

I  wrote  a  good  task  yesterday,  five  pages,  which  is  nearly  double 
the  usual  stint. 

I  am  settled  that  I  will  not  go  to  Abbotsford  till  to-morrow  fort- 
night. 

I  might  have  spared  myself  the  trouble  of  my  self-denial,  for  go 
I  cannot,  Hamilton  having  a  fit  of  gout. 

Gibson  seems  in  high  spirits  on  the  views  I  have  given  to  him  on 
the  nature  of  Constable  and  Co.'s  claim.  It  amounts  to  this,  that 
being  no  longer  accountable  as  publishers,  they  cannot  claim  the  char- 
acter of  such,  or  plead  upon,  any  claim  arising  out  of  the  contracts 
entered  into  while  they  held  that  capacity. 

June  3. — I  was  much  disturbed  this  morning  by  bile  and  its  con- 
sequences, and  lost  so  much  sleep  that  I  have  been  rather  late  in  ris- 
ing by  way  of  indemnification.  I  must  go  to  the  map  and  study  the 
Italian  campaigns  instead  of  scribbling. 

June  4. — I  wrote  a  good  task  yesterday,  and  to-day  a  great  one, 
scarce  stirring  from  the  desk  the  whole  day,  except  a  few  minutes 
when  Lady  Rae  called.  I  was  glad  to  see  my  wife's  old  friend,  with 
whom  in  early  life  we  had  so  many  liaisons.  I  am  not  sure  it  is 
right  to  work  so  hard ;  but  a  man  must  take  himself,  as  well  as  other 

i  Sheridan's  Critic,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  133 

people,  when  he  is  in  the  humour.  A  man  will  do  twice  as  much  at 
one  time  and  in  half  the  time,  and  twice  as  well  as  he  will  be  able  to 
do  at  another.  People  are  always  crying  out  about  method,  and  in 
some  respects  it  is  good,  and  shows  to  great  advantage  among  men 
of  business,  but  I  doubt  if  men  of  method,  who  can  lay  aside  or  take 
up  the  pen  just  at  the  hour  appointed,  will  ever  be  better  than  poor 
creatures.  Lady  L[ouisa]  S[tuart]  used  to  tell  me  of  Mr.  Hoole,  the 
translator  of  Tasso  and  Ariosto,  and  in  that  capacity  a  noble  trans- 
muter  of  gold  into  lead,  that  he  was  a  clerk  in  the  India  House,  with 
long  ruffles  and  a  snuff-coloured  suit  of  clothes,  who  occasionally  vis- 
ited her  father  [John,  Earl  of  Bute].  She  sometimes  conversed  with 
him,  and  was  amused  to  find  that  he  did  exactly  so  many  couplets 
day  by  day,  neither  more  or  less ;  and  habit  had  made  it  light  to  him, 
however  heavy  it  might  seem  to  the  reader. 

Well,  but  if  I  lay  down  the  pen,  as  the  pain  in  my  breast  hints 
that  I  should,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  If  I  think,  why,  I  shall  weep — and 
that's  nonsense ;  and  I  have  no  friend  now — none — to  receive  my 
tediousness  for  half-an-hour  of  the  gloaming.  Let  me  be  grateful — 
I  have  good  news  from  Abbotsford. 

June  5. — Though  this  be  Monday,  I  am  not  able  to  feague  it 
away,  as  Bayes  says.1  Between  correcting  proofs  and  writing  letters, 
I  have  got  as  yet  but  two  pages  written,  and  that  with  labour  and  a 
sensation  of  pain  in  the  chest.  I  may  be  bringing  on  some  serious 
disease  by  working  thus  hard  ;  if  I  had  once  justice  done  to  other 
folks,  I  do  not  much  care,  only  I  would  not  like  to  suffer  long  pain. 
Harden  made  me  a  visit.  He  argued  with  me  that  Lord  M.  affiehed 
his  own  importance  too  much  at  the  election,  and  says  Henry  is  anx- 
ious about  it.  I  hinted  to  him  the  necessity  of  counter-balancing  it 
the  next  time,  which  will  be  soon. 

Thomson  also  called  about  the  Bannatyne  Club. 

These  two  interruptions  did  me  good,  though  I  am  still  a  poor 
wretch. 

After  all,  I  have  fagged  through  six  pages;  and  made  poor 
Wurmser  lay  down  his  sword  on  the  glacis  of  Mantua — and  my  head 
aches — my  eyes  ache — my  back  aches — so  does  my  breast— and  I 
am  sure  my  heart  aches,  and  what  can  Duty  ask  more  ? 

June  6. — I  arose  much  better  this  morning,  having  taken  some 
medicine,  which  has  removed  the  strange  and  aching  feeling  in  my 
back  and  breast.  I  believe  it  is  from  the  diaphragm;  it  must  be 
looked  to,  however.  1  have  not  yet  breakfasted,  yet  have  cleared 
half  my  day's  work  holding  it  at  the  ordinary  stint. 

i  Buckingham's  Rehearsal. — The  expression          In  some  subsequent  editions  the  words  are: 

"To  Feague"  does  not  occur  in  the  first  ed4-  — "I  lay  my  head  close  to  it  with  a  snuff-box 

tion,  where  the  passage  stands  thus:—  in  my  hand,  and  I  feague  it  away.     I'  faith. " 

"Phys.—  When  a  knotty  point  comes,  I  lay          I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Murray  for  this  refer- 

my  head  close  to  it,  with  a  pipe  of  tobacco  in  euce,  which  he  kindly  furnished  me  with  from 

my  mouth  and  then  whew  it  away.     I'  faith.  the  materials  collected  for  his  great  English 

"Bayes. — I  do  just  so,  i' gad,  always. "    Act  Dictionary, 
u.  So.  4. 


134  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

Worked  hard.  John  Swinton,  my  kinsman,  came  to  see  me, — 
very  kind  and  affectionate  in  his  manner ;  my  heart  always  warms  to 
that  Swinton  connection,  so  faithful  to  old  Scottish  feelings.  Harden 
was  also  with  me.  I  talked  with  him  about  what  Lord  M.  did  at  the 
election ;  I  find  that  he  disapproves — I  see  these  visits  took  place  on 
the  5th. 

June  7. — Again  a  day  of  hard  work,  only  at  half -past  eight  I  went 
to  the  Dean  of  Faculty's  to  a  consultation  about  Constable.1  and  met 
with  said  Dean  and  Mr.  [J.  S.]  More  and  J.  Gibson.  I  find  they  have 
as  high  hope  of  success  as  lawyers  ought  to  express ;  and  I  think  J 
know  how  our  profession  speak  when  sincere.  I  cannot  interest  my- 
self deeply  in  it.  When  I  had  come  home  from  such  a  business,  I 
used  to  carry  the  news  to  poor  Charlotte,  who  dressed  her  face  in 
sadness  or  mirth  as  she  saw  the  news  affect  me ;  this  hangs  lightly 
about  me.  I  had  almost  forgot  the  appointment,  if  J.  G.  had  not 
sent  me  a  card,  I  passed  a  piper  in  the  street  as  I  went  to  the  Dean's 
and  could  not  help  giving  him  a  shilling  to  play  Pibroch  a  Donuil 
Dhu  for  luck's  sake — what  a  child  I  am ! 

June  8. — Bilious  and  headache  this  morning.  A  dog  howl'd  all 
night  and  left  me  little  sleep.  Poor  cur !  I  dare  say  he  had  his  dis- 
tresses, as  I  have  mine.  I  was  obliged  to  make  Dalgleish  shut  the 
windows  when  he  appeared  at  half-past  six,  as  usual,  and  did  not  rise 
till  nine,  when  me  void.  I  have  often  deserved  a  headache  in  my 
younger  days  without  having  one,  and  Nature  is,  I  suppose,  paying 
off  old  scores.  Ay,  but  then  the  want  of  the  affectionate  care  that 
used  to  be  ready,  with  lowered  voice  and  stealthy  pace,  to  smooth 
the  pillow — and  offer  condolence  and  assistance, — gone — gone — for 
ever — ever — ever.  Well,  there  is  another  world,  and  we'll  meet  free 
from  the  mortal  sorrows  and  frailties  which  -beset  us  here.  Amen, 
so  be  it.  Let  me  change  the  topic  with  hand  and  head,  and  the  heart 
must  follow. 

I  think  that  sitting  so  many  days  and  working  so  hard  may  have 
brought  on  this  headache.  I  must  inflict  a  walk  on  myself  to-day. 
Strange  that  what  is  my  delight  in  the  country  is  here  a  sort  of  pen- 
ance !  Well,  but  now  I  think  on  it,  I  will  go  to  the  Chief -Baron  and 
try  to  get  his  Lordship's  opinion  about  the  question  with  Constable  ; 
if  I  carry  it,  as  there  is,  I  trust,  much  hope  I  shall,  Mr.  Gibson  says 
there  will  be  funds  to  divide  6s.  in  the  pound,  without  counting  upon 
getting  anything  from  Constable  or  Hurst,  but  sheer  hard  cash  of  my 
own.  Such  another  pull  is  possible,  especially  if  Boney  succeeds,  and 
the  rogue  had  a  knack  at  success.  Such  another,  I  say,  and  we  touch 
ground  I  believe,  for  surely  Constable,  Robinson,  etc.,  must  pay  some- 
thing ;  the  struggle  is  worth  waring*  a  headache  upon. 

»  This  alludes  to  the  claim  advanced  by  the  the  Scottish   Bench  under  the  title  of  Lord 

creditors  of  Constable  and  Co.  to  the  copyright  Corehouse,  from  1820  until  1839,  when  he  re- 

of  Wooditock  and  the  Life  of  Napoleon.    The  tired;  he  died  1850. 
Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Advocates  was  at  that 

time  George  Cranstouu,  afterwards  a  judge  on  *  i.  «.  spending. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  135 

I  finished  five  pages  to-day,  headache,  laziness,  and  all. 

June  9. — Corrected  a  stubborn  proof  this  morning.  These  battles 
have  been  the  death  of  many  a  man — I  think  they  will  be  mine.  Well 
but  it  clears  to  windward ;  so  we  will  fag  on. 

Slept  well  last  night.  By  the  way,  how  intolerably  selfish  this  Jour- 
nal makes  me  seem — so  much  attention  to  one's  naturals  and  non-nat- 
urals !  Lord  Mackenzie1  called,  and  we  had  much  chat  about  business. 
The  late  regulations  for  preparing  cases  in  the  Outer-House  do  not 
work  well,  and  thus  our  old  machinery,  which  was  very  indifferent,  is 
succeeded  by  a  kind  that  will  hardly  move  at  all.  Mackenzie  says  his 
business  is  trebled,  and  that  he  cannot  keep  it  up.  I  question  wheth- 
er the  extreme  strictness  of  rules  of  court  be  advisable ;  in  practice 
they  are  always  evaded,  upon  an  equitable  showing.  I  do  not,  for  in- 
stance, lodge  a  paper  debito  tempore,  and  for  an  accident  happening, 
perhaps  through  the  blunder  of  a  Writer's  apprentice,  I  am  to  lose 
my  cause.  The  penalty  is  totally  disproportioned  to  the  delict,  and 
the  consequence  is,  that  means  are  found  out  of  evasion  by  legal  fic- 
tions and  the  like.  The  judges  listen  to  these  ;  they  become  frequent, 
and  the  rule  of  Court  ends  by  being  a  scarecrow  merely.  Formerly, 
delays  of  this  kind  were  checked  by  corresponding  amendes.  But  the 
Court  relaxed  this  petty  fine  too  often.  Had  they  been  more  strict, 
and  levied  the  mulct  on  the  agents,  with  no  recourse  upon  their  clients, 
the  abuse  might  have  been  remedied.  I  fear  the  present  rule  is  too 
severe  to  do  much  good. 

One  effect  of  running  causes  fast  through  the  Courts  below  is,  that 
they  go  by  scores  to  appeal,  and  Lord  Gilford2  has  hitherto  decided 
them  with  such  judgment,  and  so  much  rapidity,  as  to  give  great  sat- 
isfaction. The  consequence  will  in  time  be,  that  the  Scottish  Supreme 
Court  will  be  in  effect  situated  in  London.  Then  down  fall — as  na- 
tional objects  of  respect  and  veneration — the  Scottish  Bench,  the  Scot- 
tish Bar,  the  Scottish  Law  herself,  and — and — "  there  is  an  end  of  an 
auld  sang."3  Were  I  as  I  have  been,  I  would  fight  knee-deep  in  blood 
ere  it  came  to  that.  But  it  is  a  catastrophe  which  the  great  course  of 
events  brings  daily  nearer — 

"And  who  can  help  it,  Dick?" 

I  shall  always  be  proud  of  Malachi  as  haying  headed  back  the  South- 
ron, or  helped  to  do  so,  in  one  instance  at  least. 

June  10. — This  was  an  unusual  teind-day  at  Court.  In  the  morn- 
ing and  evening  I  corrected  proofs — four  sheets  in  number ;  and  I 
wrote  my  task  of  three  pages  and  a  little  more.  Three  pages  a  day 

1  The  eldest  son  of  "  The  Man  of  Feeling."      Giffbrd  had  visited  Abbotsford  in  the  autumn 
He  had  been  a  judge  from  1822 ;  he  died  at  the      of  1825. 

age  of  seventy-four  in  1851. 

2  Baron  Gifford  died  a  few  months  later,  viz.,  3  Speech  of  Lord  Chancellor  Seafield  on  the 
Sept.  1826;  he  had  been  Attorney  -  General  in  ratification  of  the  Scottish  Union.—  See  Miscell. 
1819,  and  Chief-Justice  in  1824.    Lord  and  Lady  Prose  Works,  vol.  xxv.  p.  93. 


136  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

will  come,  at  Constable's  rate,  to  about  £12,000  to  £15,000  per  year. 
They  have  sent  their  claim ;  it  does  not  frighten  me  a  bit. 

June  11. — Bad  dreams  about  poor  Charlotte.  Woke,  thinking 
my  old  and  inseparable  friend  beside  me  ;  and  it  was  only  when  I  was 
fully  awake  that  I  could  persuade  myself  that  she  was  dark,  low,  and 
distant,  and  that  my  bed  was  widowed.  I  believe  the  phenomena  of 
dreaming  are  in  a  great  measure  occasioned  by  the  double  touch,  which 
takes  place  when  one  hand  is  crossed  in  sleep  upon  another.  Each 
gives  and  receives  the  impression  of  touch  to  and  from  the  other,  and 
this  complicated  sensation  our  sleeping  fancy  ascribes  to  the  agency 
of  another  being,  when  it  is  in  fact  produced  by  our  own  limbs  acting 
on  each  other.  Well,  here  goes — incumbite  remis. 

June  12. — Finished  volume  third  of  Napoleon.  I  resumed  it  on 
the  1st  of  June,  the  earliest  period  that  I  could  bend  my  mind  to  it 
after  my  great  loss.  Since  that  time  I  have  lived,  to  be  sure,  the  life 
of  a  hermit,  except  attending  the  Court  five  days  in  the  week  for  about 
three  hours  on  an  average.  Except  at  that  time  I  have  been  reading 
or  writing  on  the  subject  of  Boney,  and  have  finished  last  night,  and 
sent  to  printer  this  morning  the  last  sheets  of  fifty-two  written  since 
1st  June.  It  is  an  awful  screed  ;  but  grief  makes  me  a  house-keeper, 
and  to  labour  is  my  only  resource.  Ballantyne  thinks  well  of  the 
work — very  well,  but  I  shall  [expect]  inaccuracies.  An'  it  were  to  do 
again,  I  would  get  some  one  to  look  it  over.  But  who  could  that 
some  one  be  ?  Whom  is  there  left  of  human  race  that  I  could  hold 
such  close  intimacy  with  ?  No  one.  "Tanneguy  du  Chatel  ou  es-tu  /"  ' 
Worked  five  pages. 

June  13. — I  took  a  walk  out  last  evening  after  tea,  and  called  on 
Lord  Chief-Commissioner  and  the  Macdonald  Buchanans,  that  kind 
and  friendly  clan.  The  heat  is  very  great,  and  the  wrath  of  the  bugs 
in  proportion.  Two  hours  last  night  I  was  kept  in  an  absolute  fever. 
I  must  make  some  arrangement  for  winter.  Great  pity  my  old  furni- 
ture was  sold  in  such  a  hurry  !  The  wiser  way  would  have  been  to 
have  let  the  house  furnished.  But  it's  all  one  in  the  Greek. 

"Peccavi,  peccavi,  dies  quidem  sine  lined!"  I  walked  to  make  calls; 
got  cruelly  hot ;  drank  ginger-beer ;  wrote  letters.  Then  as  I  was  go- 
ing to  dinner,  enter  a  big  splay-footed,  trifle-headed,  old  pottering 
minister,  who  came  to  annoy  me  about  a  claim  which  one  of  his  pa- 
rishioners has  to  be  Earl  of  Annandale,  and  which  he  conceits  to  be 
established  out  of  the  Border  Minstrelsy.  He  mentioned  a  curious 
thing — that  three  brothers  of  the  Johnstone  family,  on  whose  de- 
scendants the  male  representative  of  these  great  Border  chiefs  de- 
volved, were  forced  to  fly  to  the  north  in  consequence  of  their  feuds 
with  the  Maxwells,  and  agreed  to  change  their  names.  They  slept  on 
the  side  of  the  Soutra  Hills,  and  asking  a  shepherd  the  name  of  the 
place,  agreed  in  future  to  call  themselves  Sowtra  or  Sowter  John- 

1  See  Moreri's  Dictionnaire,  Art.  "Tanneguy  du  Chatel." 


1826.] 


JOURNAL 


137 


stones.  The  old  pudding-headed  man  could  not  comprehend  a  word  I 
either  asked  him  or  told  him,  and  maundered  till  I  wished  him  in  the 
Annandale  beef-stand.1  Mr.  Gibson  came  in  after  tea,  and  we  talked 
business.  Then  I  was  lazy  and  stupid,  and  dozed  over  a  book  instead 
of  writing.  So  on  the  whole,  Corifiteor,  confiteor,  culpa  mea,  culpa  mea! 

June  14. — In  the  morning  I  began  with  a  page  and  a  half  before 
breakfast.  This  is  always  the  best  way.  You  stand  like  a  child  go- 
ing to  be  bathed,  shivering  and  shaking  till  the  first  pitcherful  is 
flung  about  your  ears,  and  then  are  as  blithe  as  a  water-wagtail.  I 
am  just  come  home  from  Parliament  House ;  and  now,  my  friend 
Nap.,  have  at  you  with  a  down-right  blow !  Methinks  I  would  fain 
make  peace  with  my  conscience  by  doing  six  pages  to-night.  Bought 
a  little  bit  of  Gruyere  cheese,  instead  of  our  domestic  choke-dog  con- 
cern. When  did  I  ever  purchase  anything  for  my  own  eating  ?  But 
I  will  say  no  more  of  that.  And  now  to  the  bread-mill. 

Jyne  15. — I  laboured  all  the  evening,  but  made  little  way.     There 


1  An  example  of  Scott's  wonderful  patience, 
and  his  power  of  utilising  hints  gathered  from 
the  most  unpromising  materials.  Apropos  of 
this  Mr.  Skene  relates: — "In  one  of  our  fre- 
quent walks  to  the  pier  of  Leith,  to  which  the 
freshness  of  the  sea  breeze  offered  a  strong  in- 
ducement to  those  accustomed  to  pass  a  few 
of  the  morning  hours  within  the  close  and  im- 
pure atmosphere  of  the  Court  of  Session,  I  hap- 
pened to  meet  with,  and  to  recognize,  the  Mas- 
ter of  a  vessel  in  which  I  had  sailed  in  the 
Mediterranean.  Our  recognition  of  each  other 
seemed  to  give  mutual  satisfaction,  as  the  cord- 
ial grusp  of  the  seaman's  hard  fist  effectually 
indicated.  It  was  some  years  since  we  had  been 
shipmates,  he  had  since  visited  almost  every 
quarter  of  the  globe,  but  he  shook  his  head, 
and  looked  serious  when  he  came  to  mention 
his  last  trip.  He  had  commanded  a  whaler, 
and  having  been  for  weeks  exposed  to  great 
stress  of  weather  in  the  polar  regions,  finally 
terminated  in  the  total  loss  of  his  vessel,  with 
most  of  her  equipage,  in  the  course  of  a  dark 
tempestuous  night.  When  thrown  on  her  beam- 
ends,  my  friend  had  been  washed  overboard, 
and  in  his  struggles  to  keep  himself  above  wa- 
ter had  got  hold  of  a  piece  of  ice,  on  the  top 
of  which  he  at  length  succeeded  in  raising 
himself — 'and  there  I  was,  sir,  on  a  cursed 
dark  dirty  night,  squatted  on  a  round  lump 
of  floating  ice,  for  all  the  world  like  a  tea- 
table  adrift  in  the  middle  of  a  stormy  sea, 
without  being  able  to  see  whether  there  was 
any  hope  within  sight,  and  having  enough  ado 
to  hold  on,  cold  as  my  seat  was,  with  some- 
times one  end  of  me  in  the  water,  and  some- 
times the  other,  as  the  ill-fashioned  crank  thing 
kept  whirling  and  whomcling  about  all  night. 
However,  praised  be  God,  daylight  had  not  been 
long  in,  when  a  boat's  crew  on  the  outlook 
hove  in  sight,  and  taking  me  for  a  basking 
seal,  and  maybe  I  was  not  unlike  that  same, 
up  they  came  of  themselves,  for  -neither  voice 
nor  hand  had  I  to  signal  them,  and  if  they  lost 
their  blubber,  faith,  sir,  they  did  get  a  willing 
prize  on  board;  so,  after  just  a  little  bit  gliff  of 
a  prayer  for  the  mercy  that  sent  them  to  my 


help,  I  soon  came  to  myself  again,  and  now 
that  I  am  landed  safe  and  sound,  I  am  walking 
about,  ye  see,  like  a  gentleman,  till  I  get  some 
new  craft  to  try  the  trade  again.' — Sir  Walter, 
who  was  leaning  on  my  arm  during  this  narra- 
tive, had  not  taken  any  share  in  the  dialogue, 
and  kept  gazing  to  seaward,  with  his  usual 
heavy,  absorbed  expression,  and  only  joined  in 
wishing  the  seaman  better  success  in  his  next 
trip  as  we  parted.  However,  the  detail  had  by 
no  means  escaped  his  notice,  but  dropping  into 
the  fertile  soil  of  his  mind,  speedily  yielded 
fruit,  quite  characteristic  of  his  habits.  We 
happened  that  evening  to  dine  in  company  to- 
gether; I  was  not  near  Sir  Walter  at  table,  but 
in  the  course  of  the  evening  my  attention  was 
called  to  listen  to  a  narrative  with  which  he 
was  entertaining  those  around  him,  and  he 
seemed  as  usual  to  have  excited  the  eager  in- 
terest of  his  hearers.  The  commencement  of 
the  story  I  had  not  heard,  but  soon  perceived 
that  a  shipwreck  was  the  theme,  which  he  de- 
scribed with  all  the  vivid  touches  of  his  fancy, 
marshalling  the  incidents  and  striking  features 
of  the  situation  with  a  degree  of  dexterity  that 
seemed  to  bring  all  the  horrors  of  a  polar  storm 
home  to  every  one's  mind,  and  although  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  our  rencontre  in  the  morning 
with  the  shipwrecked  Whaler  might  have  re- 
called a  similar  story  to  his  recollection,  it  was 
not  until  he  came  to  mention  the  tea-table  of 
ice  that  I  recognised  the  identity  of  my  friend's 
tale,  which  had  luxuriated  to  such  an  extent 
in  the  fertile  soil  of  the  poet's  imagination,  as 
to  have  left  the  original  germ  in  comparative 
insignificance.  He  cast  a  glance  towards  me  at 
the  close,  and  observed,  with  a  significant  nod, 
'You  see,  you  did  not  hear  one-half  of  that 
honest  seaman's  story  this  morning.'  It  was 
such  slender  hints,  which  in  the  common  in- 
tercourse of  life  must  have  hourly  dropped  on 
the  soil  of  his  retentive  memory,  that  fed  the 
exuberance  of  Sir  Walter's  invention,  and  sup- 
plied the  seemingly  inexhaustible  stream  of 
fancy,  from  which  he  drew  forth  at  pleasure 
the  ground- work  of  romance." — Reminiscences. 


138  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

were  many  books  to  consult ;  and  so  all  I  could  really  do  was  to 
make  out  my  task  of  three  pages.  1  will  try  to  make  up  the  deficit 
of  Tuesday  to-day  and  to-morrow.  Letters  from  Walter — all  well.  A 
visit  yesterday  from  Charles  Sharpe. 

June  16. — Yesterday  sate  in  the  Court  till  nearly  four.  I  had, 
of  course,  only  time  for  my  task.  I  fear  I  will  have  little  more  to- 
day, for  I  have  accepted  to  dine  at  Hector's.  I  got,  yesterday,  a 
present  of  two  engravings  from  Sir  Henry  Raeburn's  portrait  of  me, 
which  (poor  fellow  !)  was  the  last  he  ever  painted,  and  certainly  not 
his  worst.1  I  had  the  pleasure  to  give  one  to  young  Mr.  Davidoff  for 
his  uncle,  the  celebrated  Black  ^Captain  of  the  campaign  of  1812. 
Curious  that  he  should  be  interested  in  getting  the  resemblance  of  a 
person  whose  mode  of  attaining  some  distinction  has  been  very  dif- 
ferent. But  I  am  sensible,  that  if  there  be  anything  good  about  my 
poetry  or  prose  either,  it  is  a  hurried  frankness  of  composition  which 
pleases  soldiers,  sailors,  and  young  people  of  bold  and  active  disposi- 
tion. I  have  been  no  sigher  in  shades — no  writer  of 

"Songs  and  sonnets  and  rustical  roundelays, 
Framed  on  fancies,  and  whistled  on  reeds."  * 

[Abbotsford,  Saturday,]  June  17. — Left  Edinburgh  to-day  after 
Parliament  House  to  come  [here].  My  two  girls  met  me  at  Torsonce, 
which  was  a  pleasant  surprise,  and  we  returned  in  the  sociable  all  to- 
gether. Found  everything  right  and  well  at  Abbotsford  under  the 
new  regime.  I  again  took  possession  of  the  family  bedroom  and  my 
widowed  couch.  This  was  a  sore  trial,  but  it  was  necessary  not  to 
blink  such  a  resolution.  Indeed,  I  do  not  like  to  have  it  thought 
that  there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  be  beaten.8 

June  18. — This  morning  wrote  till  half-twelve — good  day's  work 
— at  Canongate  Chronicles.  Methinks  I  can  make  this  work  answer. 
Then  drove  to  Huntly  Burn  and  called  at  Chiefswood.  Walked 
home.  The  country  crying  for  rain ;  yet  on  the  whole  the  weather 
delicious,  dry,  and  warm,  with  a  fine  air  of  wind.  The  young  woods 
are  rising  in  a  kind  of  profusion  I  never  saw  elsewhere.  Let  me 
once  clear  off  these  encumbrances,  and  they  shall  wave  broader  and 
deeper  yet.  But  to  attain  this  I  must  work. 

Wrought  very  fair  accordingly  till  two ;  then  walked ;  after  din- 

1  Painted  for  Lord  Montagu  in  1822. — See  July,  1823,  and  I  do  not  know  what  became  of 

Life,  voL  vii.  p.  13.  the  original,  which  may  be  identified  by  an 

Raebura  apparently  executed  two  "half  official  chain  round  the  neck,  not  introduced  in 

lengths  "  of  Scott  almost  identical  at  this  time,  the  Montagu  picture. 

En ^aSTliH!o?  ne!r  iSUffS-  '  S°"g  °f  ™<  »*"*  *»*  *"-*•  *  L' 
til  1845,  when  at  Lord  Montagu's  death  it  be-  »  This  entry  reminds  one  of  Hannah  More's 
came  the  property  of  his  son-in-law,  the  Earl  account  of  Mrs.  Garrick's  conduct  after  her 
of  Home,  and  it  is  now  (1889)  at  the  Hirsel,  husband's  funeral.  "She  told  me,"  says  Mrs. 
Coldstream.  The  engraving  referred  to  was  More,  "that  she  prayed  with  great  compos- 
made  from  the  replica,  which  remained  in  the  ure,  then  went  and  kissed  the  dear  bed.  and 
artist's  possession,  by  Mr.  Walker,  and  pub-  got  into  it  with  a  sad  pleasure."—  See  Memoirs 
lished  in  1820,  Sir  Henry  Raeburn  died  in  of  Mrs.  More,  vol.  i.  p.  136.— j.  o.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  139 

ner  out  again  with  the  girls.  Smoked  two  cigars,  first  time  these 
two  months. 

June  19. — Wrought  very  fair  indeed,  and  the  day  being  scorching 
we  dined  al  fresco  in  the  hall  among  the  armour,  and  went  out  early 
in  the  evening.  Walked  to  the  lake  and  back  again  by  the  Marie 
pool ;  very  delightful  evening. 

June  20. — This  is  also  a  hard-working  day.  Hot  weather  is  fa- 
vourable for  application,  were  it  not  that  it  makes  the  composer  sleepy. 
Pray  God  the  reader  may  not  partake  the  sensation !  But  days  of 
hard  work  make  short  journals.  To-day  we  again  dine  in  the  hall, 
and  drive  to  Ashestiel  in  the  evening  pour  prendre  lefrais. 

June  21. — We  followed  the  same  course  we  proposed.  For  a 
party  of  pleasure  I  have  attended  to  business  well.  Twenty  pages  of 
Croftangry,  five  printed  pages  each,  attest  my  diligence,  and  I  have 
had  a  delightful  variation  by  the  company  of  the  two  Annes.  Regu- 
lated my  little  expenses  here. 

[Edinburgh,']  June  22. — Returned  to  my  Patmos.  Heard  good 
news  from  Lockhart.  Wife  well,  and  John  Hugh  better.  He  men- 
tions poor  Southey  testifying  much  interest  for  me,  even  to  tears.  It 
is  odd — am  I  so  hard-hearted  a  man  ?  I  could  not '  have  wept  for 
him,  though  in  distress  I  would  have  gone  any  length  to  serve  him. 
I  sometimes  think  I  do  not  deserve  people's  good  opinion,  for  cer- 
tainly my  feelings  are  rather  guided  by  reflection  than  impulse.  But 
everybody  has  his  own  mode  of  expressing  interest,  and  mine  is 
stoical  even  in  bitterest  grief.  Agere  atque  pati  Romanum  est.  I 
hope  I  am  not  the  worse  for  wanting  the  tenderness  that  I  see  others 
possess,  and  which  is  so  amiable.  I  think  it  does  not  cool  my  wish 
to  be  of  use  where  I  can.  But  the  truth  is,  I  am  better  at  enduring 
or  acting  than  at  consoling.  From  childhood's  earliest  hour  my 
heart  rebelled  against  the  influence  of  external  circumstances  in  my- 
self and  others.  Non  est  tanti  ! 

To-day  I  was  detained  in  the  Court  from  half-past  ten  till  near 
four ;  yet  I  finished  and  sent  off  a  packet  to  Cadell,  which  will  finish 
one-third  of  the  Chronicles,  vol.  1st. 

Henry  Scott  came  in  while  I  was  at  dinner,  and  sat  while  I  ate 
my  beef-steak.  A  gourmand  would  think  me  much  at  a  loss,  com- 
ing back  to  my  ploughman's  meal  of  boiled  beef  and  Scotch  broth, 
from  the  rather  recherche  table  at  Abbotsford,  but  I  have  no  philoso- 
phy in  my  carelessness  on  that  score.  It  is  natural — though  I  am 
no  ascetic,  as  my  father  was. 

June  23. — The  heat  tremendous,  and  the  drought  threatening  the 
hay  and  barley  crop.  Got  from  the  Court  at  half-twelve,  and  walked 
to  the  extremity  of  Heriot  Row  to  see  poor  Lady  Don ;  left  my  card 
as  she  does  not  receive  any  one.  I  am  glad  this  painful  meeting  is  ad- 
journed. I  received  to-day  £10  from  Blackwood  for  the  article  on 
The  Omen.  Time  was  I  would  not  have  taken  these  small  tithes  of 
mint  and  cummin,  but  scornful  dogs  will  eat  dirty  puddings,  and  I, 


140  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

with  many  depending  on  me,  must  do  the  best  I  can  with  my  time — 
God  help  me ! 

\Elair-Adam^\  June  24. — Left  Edinburgh  yesterday  after  the 
Court,  half-past  twelve,  and  came  over  here  with  the  Lord  Chief-Baron 
and  William  Clerk,  to  spend  as  usual  a  day  or  two  at  Blair- Adam.  In 
general,  this  is  a  very  gay  affair.  We  hire  a  light  coach-and-f our,  and 
scour  the  country  in  every  direction  in  quest  of  objects  of  curiosity. 
But  the  Lord  Chief-Commissioner's  family  misfortunes  and  my  own 
make  our  holiday  this  year  of  a  more  quiet  description  than  usual,  and 
a  sensible  degree  of  melancholy  hangs  on  the  reunion  of  our  party.  It 
was  wise,  however,  not  to  omit  it,  for  to  slacken  your  hold  on  life  in 
any  agreeable  point  of  connection  is  the  sooner  to  reduce  yourself  to 
the  indifference  and  passive  vegetation  of  old  age. 

June  25. — Another  melting  day;  thermometer  at  78°  even  here. 
80°  was  the  height  yesterday  at  Edinburgh.  If  we  attempt  any  active 
proceeding  we  dissolve  ourselves  into  a  dew.  We  have  lounged 
away  the  morning  creeping  about  the  place,  sitting  a  great  deal,  and 
walking  as  little  as  might  be  on  account  of  the  heat. 

Blair- Adam  has  been  successively  in  possession  of  three  generations 
of  persons  attached  to  and  skilled  in  the  art  of  embellishment,  and 
may  be  fairly  taken  as  a  place  where  art  and  taste  have  done  a  great 
deal  to  improve  nature.  A  long  ridge  of  varied  ground  sloping  to  the 
foot  of  the  hill  called  Benarty,  and  which  originally  was  of  a  bare, 
mossy,  boggy  character,  has  been  clothed  by  the  son,  father,  and 
grandfather ;  while  the  undulations  and  hollows,  which  seventy  or 
eighty  years  since  must  have  looked  only  like  wrinkles  in  the  black 
morasses,  being  now  drained  and  limed,  are  skirted  with  deep  woods, 
particularly  of  spruce,  which  thrives  wonderfully,  and  covered  with 
excellent  grass.  We  drove  in  the  droskie  and  walked  in  the  evening. 

June  26. — Another  day  of  unmitigated  heat;  thermometer  82; 
must  be  higher  in  Edinburgh,  where  I  return  to-night,  when  the  de- 
cline of  the  sun  makes  travelling  practicable.  It  will  be  well  for  my 
work  to  be  there — not  quite  so  well  for  me ;  there  is  a  difference  be- 
tween the  clean,  nice  arrangement  of  Blair-Adam  and  Mrs.  Brown's 
accommodations,  though  he  who  is  insured  against  worse  has  no  right 
to  complain  of  them.  But  the  studious  neatness  of  poor  Charlotte 
has  perhaps  made  me  fastidious.  She  loved  to  see  things  clean,  even 
to  Oriental  scrupulosity.  So  oddly  do  our  deep  recollections  of  other 
kinds  correspond  with  the  most  petty  occurrences  of  our  life. 

Lord  Chief-Baron  told  us  a  story  of  the  ruling  passion  strong  in 
death.  A  Master  in  Chancery  was  on  his  death-bed — a  very  wealthy 
man.  Some  occasion  of  great  urgency  occurred  in  which  it  was  nec- 
essary to  make  an  affidavit,  and  the  attorney,  missing  one  or  two  oth- 
er Masters,  whom  he  inquired  after,  ventured  to  ask  if  Mr. would 

be  able  to  receive  the  deposition.  The  proposal  seemed  to  give  him 
momentary  strength ;  his  clerk  sent  for,  and  the  oath  taken  in  due 
form,  the  Master  was  lifted  up  in  bed,  and  with  difficulty  subscribed 


1826.]  JOURNAL  141 

the  paper;  as  he  sank  down  again, he  made  a  signal  to  his  clerk — 
"  Wallace." — "  Sir  ?" — "  Your  ear — lower — lower.  Have  you  got  the 
half-crown  ?"  He  was  dead  before  morning. 

[Edinburgh^  June  27. — Returned  to  Edinburgh  late  last  night,  and 
had  a  most  sweltering  night  of  it.  This  day  also  cruel  hot.  How- 
ever, I  made  a  task  or  nearly  so,  and  read  a  good  deal  about  the 
Egyptian  Expedition.  Had  comfortable  accounts  of  Anne,  and 
through  her  of  Sophia.  Dr.  Shaw  doubts  if  anything  is  actually  the 
matter  with  poor  Johnnie's  back.  I  hope  the  dear  child  will  escape 
deformity,  and  the  infirmities  attending  that  helpless  state.  I  have 
myself  been  able  to  fight  up  very  well,  notwithstanding  my  lameness, 
but  it  has  cost  great  efforts,  and  I  am  besides  very  strong.  Dined 
with  Colin  Mackenzie ;  a  fine  family  all  growing  up  about  him,  turn- 
ing men  and  women,  and  treading  fast  on  our  heels.  Some  thunder 
and  showers  which  I  fear  will  be  but  partial.  Hot — hot — hot. 

June  28. — Another  hot  morning,  and  something  like  an  idle  day, 
though  I  have  read  a  good  deal.  But  I  have  slept  also,  corrected 
proofs,  and  prepared  for  a  great  start,  by  filling  myself  with  facts  and 
ideas. 

June  29. — I  walked  out  for  an  hour  last  night,  and  made  one  or 
two  calls — the  evening  was  delightful — 

"  Day  its  sultry  fires  had  wasted, 

Calm  and  cool  the  moonbeam  rose ; 
Even  a  captive's  bosom  tasted 
Half  oblivion  of  his  woes."  * 

I  wonder  often  how  Tom  Campbell,  with  so  much  real  genius,  has  not 
maintained  a  greater  figure  in  the  public  eye  than  he  has  done  of  late. 
The  Magazine  seems  to  have  paralysed  him.  The  author,  not  only  of 
the  Pleasures  of  Hope,  but  of  Hohenlinden,  Lochiel,  etc.,  should  have 
been  at  the  very  top  of  the  tree.  Somehow  he  wants  audacity,  fears 
the  public,  and,  what  is  worse,  fears  the  shadow  of  his  own  reputation. 
He  is  a  great  corrector  too,  which  succeeds  as  ill  in  composition  as  in 
education.  Many  a  clever  boy  is  flogged  into  a  dunce,  and  many  an 
original  composition  corrected  into  mediocrity.  Yet  Tom  Campbell 
ought  to  have  done  a  great  deal  more.  His  youthful  promise  was 
great.  John  Leyden  introduced  me  to  him.  They  afterwards  quar- 
relled. When  I  repeated  Hohenlinden  to  Leyden,  he  said,  "  Dash  it, 
man,  tell  the  fellow  that  I  hate  him,  but,  dash  him,  he  has  written  the 
finest  verses  that  have  been  published  these  fifty  years."  I  did  mine 
errand  as  faithfully  as  one  of  Homer's  messengers,  and  had  for  answer, 
"  Tell  Leyden  that  I  detest  him,  but  I  know  the  value  of  his  critical 
approbation."  This  feud  was  therefore  in  the  way  of  being  taken  up. 
"  When  Leyden  comes  back  from  India,"  said  Tom  Campbell,  "  what 

i  Campbell's  Turkish  Lady  slightly  altered.    The  poet  was  then  editor  of  the  New  Monthly 
Magazine,  but  he  soon  gave  it  up. — j.  G.  L. 


142  JOURNAL  [JUNE,  1826. 

cannibals  he  will  have  eaten  and  what  tigers  he  will  have  torn  to 
pieces !" 

Gave  a  poor  poetess  £1.  Gibson  writes  me  that  £2300  is  offered 
for  the  poor  house;  it  is  worth  £300  more,  but  I  will  not  oppose  my  own 
opinion,  or  convenience  to  good  and  well-meant  counsel :  so  farewell, 
poor  No.  39.  What  a  portion  of  my  life  has  been  spent  there !  It 
has  sheltered  me  from  the  prime  of  life  to  its  decline  ;  and  now  I  must 
bid  good-bye  to  it.  I  have  bid  good-bye  to  my  poor  wife,  so  long  its 
courteous  and  kind  mistress, — and  I  need  not  care  about  the  empty 
rooms ;  yet  it  gives  me  a  turn.  I  have  been  so  long  a  citizen  of  Ed- 
inburgh, now  an  indweller  only.  Never  mind  ;  all  in  the  day's  work. 

J.  Ballantyne  and  R.  Cadell  dined  with  me,  and,  as  Pepys  would 
say,  all  was  very  handsome.  Drank  amongst  us  one  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne, one  of  claret,  a  glass  or  two  of  port,  and  each  a  tumbler  of 
whisky  toddy.  J.  B.  had  courage  to  drink  his  with  hot  water ;  mine 
was  iced. 

June  30. — Here  is  another  dreadful  warm  day,  fit  for  nobody  but 
the  flies.  And  then  one  is  confined  to  town. 

Yesterday  I  agreed  to  let  Cadell  have  the  new  work,1  edition  1500, 
he  paying  all  charges,  and  paying  also  £500 — two  hundred  and  fifty 
at  Lammas,  to  pay  J.  Gibson  money  advanced  on  the  passage  of  young 
Walter,  my  nephew,  to  India.  It  is  like  a  thorn  in  one's  eye  this  sort 
of  debt,  and  Gibson  is  young  in  business,  and  somewhat  involved  in 
my  affairs  besides.  Our  plan  is,  that  this  same  Miscellany  or  Chron- 
icle shall  be  committed  quietly  to  the  public,  and  we  hope  it  will  at- 
tract attention.  If  it  does  not,  we  must  turn  public  attention  to  it 
ourselves.  About  one  half  of  vol.  i.  is  written,  and  there  is  worse 
abomination,  or  I  mistake  the  matter. 

I  was  detained  in  Court  till  four ;  dreadfully  close,  and  obliged  to 
drink  water  for  refreshment,  which  formerly  I  used  to  scorn,  even  on 
the  moors,  with  a  burning  August  sun,  the  heat  of  exercise,  and  a  hun- 
dred springs  gushing  around  me. 

Corrected  proofs,  etc.,  on  my  return.  I  think  I  have  conquered 
the  trustees'  objections  to  carry  on  the  small  edition  of  novels.  Got 
Cadell' s  letter  about  the  Chronicle. 

1  Viz. :  the  first  series  of  Chronicles  of  the  Crusaders,  etc.  "  He  was  a  very  perfect  gen- 
Canongate,  which  was  published  in  1827.  The  tie  knight"  ((jbaucer).  Edinburgh:  Printed 
title  originally  proposed  was  The  Canongate  for  Archibald  Constable  and  Co.,  Edinburgh; 
MisceUany  or  Traditions  of  the  Sanctuary.  and  Longman,  Rees,  Orme,  Brown,  and  Green, 
.  Woodstock  had  just  been  launched  under  the  London,  1826.  (At  the  end)  Edinburgh :  Print- 
following  title:—  Woodstock,  or  the  Cavalier  ;  a  ed  by  James  Ballantyne  and  Co.  3  vols.  post 
Tale  of  the  Year  Sixteen  Hundred  and  Fifty-  8vo. 
one,  by  the  author  of  Waverley,  Tales  of  the 


JULY 

[Edinbur v/rA,]  July  1. — Another  sunny  day.  This  threatens  ab- 
solutely Syrian  drought.  As  the  Selkirk  election  comes  on  Monday, 
I  go  out  to-day  to  Abbotsford,  and  carry  young  Davidoff  and  his  tutor 
with  me,  to  see  our  quiet  way  of  managing  the  choice  of  a  national 
representative. 

I  wrote  a  page  or  two  last  night  slumbrously. 

[Abbotsford,]  July  2. — Late  at  Court.  Got  to  Abbotsford  last  night 
with  Count  Davidoff  about  eight  o'clock.  I  worked  a  little  this 
morning,  then  had  a  long  and  warm  walk.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hamilton 
from  Chiefswood,  the  present  inhabitants  of  Lockhart's  cottage, 
dined  with  us,  which  made  the  society  pleasant.  He  is  a  fine,  sol- 
dierly-looking man1 — though  affected  with  paralysis — his  wife  a  sweet 
good-humoured  little  woman.  He  is  supposed  to  be  a  writer  in  Black- 
wood's  Magazine.  Since  we  were  to  lose  the  Lockharts,  we  could 
scarce  have  had  more  agreeable  folks. 

At  Selkirk,  where  Borthwickbrae  was  elected  with  the  usual 
unanimity  of  the  Forest  freeholders.  This  was  a  sight  to  my  young 
Muscovite.  We  walked  in  the  evening  to  the  lake. 

July  5. — Still  very  hot,  but  with  thunder  showers.  Wrote  till 
breakfast,  then  walked  and  signed  the  death-warrant  of  a  number  of 
old  firs  at  Abbotstown.  I  hope  their  deaths  will  prove  useful.  Their 
lives  are  certainly  not  ornamental.  Young  Mr.  Davidoff  entered  upon 
the  cause  of  the  late  discontents  in  Russia,  which  he  imputes  to  a 
deep-seated  Jacobin  conspiracy  to  overthrow  the  state  and  empire  and 
establish  a  government  by  consuls. 

[Edinburgh,]  July  6. — Returned  last  night  with  my  frozen  Mus- 
covites to  the  Capital,  and  suffered  as  usual  from  the  incursions  of 
the  black  horse  during  the  night.  It  was  absolute  fever.  A  bunch 
of  letters,  but  little  interesting.  Mr.  Barry  Cornwall a  writes  to  con- 
dole with  me.  I  think  our  acquaintance  scarce  warranted  this ;  but 
it  is  well  meant  and  modestly  done.  I  cannot  conceive  the  idea  of 
forcing  myself  on  strangers  in  distress,  and  I  have  half  a  mind  to 
turn  sharp  round  on  some  of  my  consolers.  Came  home  from  Court. 
R.  P.  Gillies  called ;  he  is  writing  a  satire.  He  has  a  singular  talent 
of  aping  the  measure  and  tone  of  Byron,  and  this  poem  goes  to  the 

1  Thomas  Hamilton,  Esq.  (brother  of  Sir  Wm.  J  Bryan  Waller  Procter,  author  of  Dramatic 

Hamilton,  the  Metaphysician),  author  of  Cyril  Scenes,  and  other  Poems,  1819.    He  died  in  Lon- 

Thornton,Men  and  Manners  in  America,  Annals  don  in  1874, 
of  the  Peninsular  Campaign,  etc.    Died  in  1842. 


144  JOURNAL  [JULY 

tune  of  Don  Juan,  but  it  is  the  Champagne  after  it  has  stood  two 
days  with  the  cork  drawn.  Thereafter  came  Charles  K.  Sharpe  and 
Will  Clerk,  as  Robinson  sayeth,  to  my  exceeding  refreshment.1  And 
last,  not  least,  Mr.  Jollie,  one  of  the  triumvirs  who  manage  my  poor 
matters.  He  consents  to  going  on  with  the  small  edition  of  novels, 
which  he  did  not  before  comprehend.  All  this  has  consumed  the 
day,  but  we  will  make  up  tide-way  presently.  I  must  dress  to  go  to 
Lord  Medwyn8  to  dinner,  and  it  is  near  time. 

July  7. — Coming  home  from  Lord  Medwyn's  last  night  I  fell  in 
with  Willie  Clerk,  and  went  home  to  drink  a  little  shrub  and  water, 
over  which  we  chatted  of  old  stories  until  half-past  eleven.  This 
morning  I  corrected  two  proofs  of  C[roftangr]y,  which  is  getting  on. 
But  there  must  be  a  little  check  with  the  throng  of  business  at  the 
close  of  the  session.  D — n  the  session !  I  wish  it  would  close  its 
eyes  for  a  century.  It  is  too  bad  to  be  kept  broiling  here ;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  must  have  the  instinctive  gratitude  of  the  Laird  of 
M'Intosh,  who  was  for  the  King  that  gave  M'Intosh  half-a-guinea  the 
day  and  half-a-guinea  the  morn.  So  I  retract  my  malediction. 

Received  from  Blackwood  to  account  sales  of  Malachi  £72  with 
some  odd  shillings.  This  was  for  copies  sold  to  Banks.  The  cash 
comes  far  from  ill-timed,  having  to  clear  all  odds  and  ends  before  I 
leave  Edinburgh.  This  will  carry  me  on  tidily  till  25th,  when  pre- 
cepts become  payable.  Well !  if  Malachi  did  me  some  mischief,  he 
must  also  contribute  quodam  modo  to  my  comfort. 

July  8. — Wrote  a  good  task  this  morning.  I  may  be  mistaken ; 
but  I  do  think  the  tale  of  Elspat  McTavish 3  in  my  bettermost  man- 
ner— but  J.  B.  roars  for  chivalry.  He  does  not  quite  understand  that 
everything  may  be  overdone  in  this  world,  or  sufficiently  estimate  the 
necessity  of  novelty.  The  Highlanders  have  been  off  the  field  now 
for  some  time. 

Returning  from  Court,  looked  into  a  show  of  wild  beasts,  and  saw 
Nero  the  great  lion,  whom  they  had  the  cruelty  to  bait  with  bull-dogs, 
against  whom  the  noble  creature  disdained  to  exert  his  strength.  He 
was  lying  like  a  prince  in  a  large  cage,  where  you  might  be  admitted 
if  you  wish.  I  had  a  month's  mind — but  was  afraid  of  the  news- 
papers ;  I  could  be  afraid  of  nothing  else,  for  never  did  a  creature 
seem  more  gentle  and  yet  majestic — I  longed  to  caress  him.  Wallace, 
the  other  lion,  born  in  Scotland,  seemed  much  less  trustworthy.  He 
handled  the  dogs  as  his  namesake  did  the  southron. 

Enter  a  confounded  Dousterswivel,  called  Burschal,  or  some  such 
name,  patronised  by  John  Lockhart,  teacher  of  German  and  learner 
of  English. 

He  opened  the  trenches  by  making  me  a  present  of  a  German 

»  A  favourite  expression  of  Scott's,  from  Rob-  Pitsligo.    Lord  Medwyn  died  at  the  age  of  sev- 

inson  Crusoe.  enty-eight  in  1854. 

»  John  Hay  Forbes  (Lord  Medwyn  from  1825 

to  1852),  second  son  of  Sir  William  Forbes  of  »  The  Highland  Widow. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  145 

work  called  Der  Bibelische  Orient,  then  began  to  talk  of  literature  at 
large  ;  and  display  his  own  pretensions.  Asked  my  opinion  of  Gray 
as  a  poet,  and  wished  me  to  subscribe  an  attestation  of  his  own  mer- 
its for  the  purpose  of  getting  him  scholars.  As  I  hinted  my  want  of 
acquaintance  with  his  qualifications,  I  found  I  had  nearly  landed  my- 
self in  a  proof,  for  he  was  girding  up  his  loins  to  repeated  thunder- 
ing translations  by  himself  into  German,  Hebrew,  until,  thinking  it 
superfluous  to  stand  on  very  much  ceremony  with  one  who  used  so 
little  with  me,  hinted  at  letters  to  write,  and  got  him  to  translate  him- 
self elsewhere. 

Saw  a  good  house  in  Brunswick  Street,  which  I  liked.  This 
evening  supped  with  Thomas  Thomson  about  the  affairs  of  the  Ban- 
natyne.  There  was  the  Dean,  Will  Clerk,  John  Thomson,  young 
Smythe  of  Methven  ;  very  pleasant. 

July  9. — Rather  slumbrous  to-day  from  having  sat  up  till  twelve 
last  night.  We  settled,  or  seemed  to  settle,  on  an  election  for  the 
Bannatyne  Club.  There  are  people  who  would  wish  to  confine  it 
much  to  one  party.  But  those  who  were  together  last  night  saw  it  in 
the  true  and  liberal  point  of  view,  as  a  great  national  institution, 
which  may  do  much  good  in  the  way  of  publishing  our  old  records, 
providing  we  do  not  fall  into  the  usual  habit  of  antiquarians,  and  neg- 
lect what  is  useful  for  things  that  are  merely  curious.  Thomson  is  a 
host  for  such  an  undertaking.  I  wrote  a  good  day's  work  at  the  Can- 
ongate  matter,  notwithstanding  the  intervention  of  two  naps.  I  get 
sleepy  oftener  than  usual.  It  is  the  weather  I  suppose — Naboclish  f  * 
I  am  near  the  end  of  the  first  volume,  and  every  step  is  one  out  of 
difficulty. 

July  10. — Slept  too  long  this  morning.  It  was  eight  before  I  rose 
— half -past  eight  ere  I  came  into  the  parlour.  Terry  and  J.  Ballan- 
tyne  dined  with  me  yesterday,  and  I  suppose  the  wassail,  though  there 
was  little  enough  of  it,  had  stuck  to  my  pillow. 

This  morning  I  was  visited  by  a  Mr.  Lewis,  a  smart  Cockney, 
whose  object  is  to  amend  the  handwriting.  He  uses  as  a  mechanical 
aid  a  sort  of  puzzle  of  wire  and  ivory,  which  is  put  upon  the  fingers 
to  keep  them  in  the  desired  position,  like  the  muzzle  on  a  dog's  nose 
to  make  him  bear  himself  right  in  the  field.  It  is  ingenious,  and  may 
be  useful.  If  the  man  comes  here,  as  he  proposes,  in  winter,  I  will 
take  lessons.  Bear  witness,  good  reader,  that  if  W.  S.  writes  a  cramp 
hand,  as  is  the  case,  he  is  desirous  to  mend  it. 

Dined  with  John  Swinton  enfamille.  He  told  me  an  odd  circum- 
stance. Coming  from  Berwickshire  in  the  mail  coach  he  met  with  a 
passenger  who  seemed  more  like  a  military  man  than  anything  else. 
They  talked  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  at  length  on  politics.  Malachi's 

1  A  favourite  exclamation  of  Sir  Walter's,  was  cut  off  and  placed  upon  a  table:  "  'Quiz 

which  he  had  picked  up  on  his  Irish  tour,  sig-  separabit?'1  says  the  head;  'Naboclish,'  says  I, 

nifying  "don't  mind  it" — Na-bac-le'ts.    Com-  in  the  same  language." 
pare  Sir  Boyle  Roche's  dream  that  his  head 

10 


146  JOURNAL  [JULY 

letters  were  mentioned,  when  the  stranger  observed  they  were  much 
more  seditious  than  some  expressions  for  which  he  had  three  or  four 
years  ago  been  nearly  sent  to  Botany  Bay.  And  perceiving  John 
Swinton  surprised  at  this  avowal,  he  added, "  I  am  Kinloch  of  Kin- 
loch."  This  gentleman  had  got  engaged  in  the  radical  business  (the 
only  real  gentleman  by  the  way  who  did),  and  harangued  the  weavers 
of  Dundee  with  such  emphasis  that  he  would  have  been  tried  and 
sent  to  Botany  Bay  had  he  not  fled  abroad.  He  was  outlawed,  and 
only  restored  to  his  status  on  a  composition  with  Government.  It 
seems  to  have  escaped  Mr.  Kinloch  that  the  conduct  of  a  man  who 
places  a  lighted  coal  in  the  middle  of  combustibles,  and  upon  the 
floor,  is  a  little  different  from  that  of  one  who  places  the  same  quan- 
tity of  burning  fuel  in  a  fire-grate  ! ' 

July  11. — The  last  day  of  the  session,  and  as  toilsome  a  one  as  I 
ever  saw.  There  were  about  100  or  120  cases  on  the  roll,  and  most 
of  them  of  an  incidental  character,  which  gives  us  Clerks  the  greatest 
trouble,  for  it  is  the  grasshopper  that  is  a  burthen  to  us.  Came  home 
about  four,  tired  and  hungry.  I  wrought  little  or  none ;  indeed  I 
could  not,  having  books  and  things  to  pack.  Went  in  the  evening 
to  sup  with  John  Murray,3  where  I  met  Will  Clerk,  Thomson,  Hen- 
derland,  and  Charles  Stuart  Blantyre,  and  had  of  course  a  pleasant 
party.  I  came  late  home,  though,  for  me,  and  was  not  in  bed  till 
past  midnight;  it  would  not  do  for  me  to  do  this  often. 

July  12. — I  have  the  more  reason  to  eschew  evening  parties  that 
I  slept  two  mornings  till  past  eight ;  these  vigils  would  soon  tell  on 
my  utility,  as  the  divines  call  it,  but  this  is  the  last  day  in  town,  and 
the  world  shall  be  amended.  I  have  been  trying  to  mediate  between 
the  unhappy  R.  P.  G[illiesJ  and  his  uncle  Lord  G.  The  latter  talks 
like  a  man  of  sense  and  a  good  relation,  and  would,  I  think,  do  some- 
thing for  R.  P.  G.,  if  he  would  renounce  temporary  expedients  and 
bring  his  affairs  to  a  distinct  crisis.  But  this  R.  P.  will  not  hear  of, 
but  flatters  himself  with  ideas  which  seem  to  me  quite  visionary.  I 
could  make  nothing  of  him ;  but,  I  conclude,  offended  him  by  being 
of  his  uncle's  opinion  rather  than  his,  as  to  the  mode  of  extricating 
his  affairs. 

I  am  to  dine  out  to-day,  and  I  would  fain  shirk  and  stay  at  home  ; 
never,  Shylock-like,  had  I  less  will  to  feasting  forth,  but  I  must  go  or 
be  thought  sulky.  Lord  M.  and  Lady  Abercromby  called  this  morn- 
ing, and  a  world  of  people  besides,  among  others  honest  Mr.  Wilson, 
late  of  Wilsontown,  who  took  so  much  care  of  me  at  London,  send- 
ing fresh  eggs  and  all  sorts  of  good  things.  Well,  I  have  dawdled 
and  written  letters  sorely  against  the  grain  all  day.  Also  I  have  been 

i  That  Mr.  Kinlock  was  not  singular  in  his  lock  would  have  been  an  idiot  if  he  had  stay- 
opinion  has  been  shown  by  the  remarks  made  ed."    Mr.  Kinlock  had  just  returned  to  Scot- 
in  the  House  of  Commons  (see  antf.,  March  17).  land. 
Lord  Cockbura  in  his  Trials  for  Sedition  says, 

"  With  Botany  Bay  before  him,  and  money  to  2  His   neighbour,  John  Archibald   Murray, 

make  himself  comfortable  in  Paris,  George  Kin-  then  living  at  122  George  Street.  —See  p.  85. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  147 

down  to  see  Will  Allan's  picture  of  the  Landing  of  Queen  Mary, 
which  he  has  begun  in  a  great  style ;  also  I  have  put  my  letters  and 
papers  to  rights,  which  only  happens  when  I  am  about  to  move,  and 
now,  having  nothing  left  to  do,  I  must  go  and  dress  myself. 

July  13. — Dined  yesterday  with  Lord  Abercromby  at  a  party  he 
gave  to  Lord  Melville  and  some  old  friends,  who  formed  the  Contem- 
porary Club.  Lord  M.  and  I  met  with  considerable  feeling  on  both 
sides,  and  all  our  feuds  were  forgotten  and  forgiven ;  I  conclude  so 
at  least,  because  one  or  two  people,  whom  I  know  to  be  sharp  ob- 
servers of  the  weatherglass  on  occasion  of  such  squalls,  have  been 
earnest  with  me  to  meet  Lord  M.  at  parties — which  I  am  well  assured 
they  would  not  have  been  (had  I  been  Horace  come  to  life  again1) 
were  they  not  sure  the  breeze  was  over.  For  myself,  I  am  happy 
that  our  usual  state  of  friendship  should  be  restored,  though  I  could 
not  have  come  down  proud  stomach  to  make  advances,  which  is, 
among  friends,  always  the  duty  of  the  richer  and  more  powerful  of 
the  two. 

To-day  I  leave  Mrs.  Brown's  lodgings.  Altogether  I  cannot  com- 
plain, but  the  insects  were  voracious,  even  until  last  night  when  the 
turtle-soup  and  champagne  ought  to  have  made  me  sleep  like  a  top. 
But  I  have  done  a  monstrous  sight  of  work  here  notwithstanding  the 
indolence  of  this  last  week,  which  must  and  shall  be  amended. 

"  So  good-by,  Mrs.  Brown, 
I  am  going  out  of  town, 
Over  dale,  over  down, 
Where  bugs  bite  not, 
Where  lodgers  fight  not, 
Where  below  you  chairmen  drink  not, 
Where  beside  you  gutters  stink  not ; 
•  But  all  is  fresh,  and  clean,  and  gay, 

And  merry  lambkins  sport  and  play, 
And  they  toss  with  rakes  uncommonly  short  hay, 
Which  looks  as  if  it  had  been  sown  only  the  other  day, 
And  where  oats  are  at  twenty-five  shillings  a  boll,  they  say, 
But  all's  one  for  that,  since  I  must  and  will  away." 

July  14,  ABBOTSFOED. — Arrived  here  yesterday  before  five  o'clock. 
Anybody  would  think,  from  the  fal-de-ral  conclusion  of  my  journal 
yesterday,  that  I  left  town  in  a  very  gay  humour — cujus  contrarium 
verum  est.  But  nature  has  given  me  a  kind  of  buoyancy,  I  know  not 
what  to  call  it,  that  mingles  even  with  my  deepest  afflictions  and  most 
gloomy  hours.  I  have  a  secret  pride — I  fancy  it  will  be  so  most 
truly  termed — which  impels  me  to  mix  with  my  distresses  strange 
snatches  of  mirth  "  which  have  no  mirth  in  them."  In  fact,  the  jour- 
ney hither,  the  absence  of  the  affectionate  friend  that  used  to  be  my 
companion  on  the  journey,  and  many  mingled  thoughts  of  bitterness, 
have  given  me  a  fit  of  the  bile. 

»  See  Moji6re's  VEcole  des  Femmet. 


148  JOURNAL  [JULY 

July  15. — This  day  I  did  not  attempt  to  work,  but  spent  my  time 
in  the  morning  in  making  the  necessary  catalogue  and  distribution 
of  two  or  three  chests  of  books  which  I  have  got  home  from  the 
binder,  Niece  Anne  acting  as  my  Amanuensis.  In  the  evening  we 
drove  to  Huntly  Burn,  and  took  tea  there.  Returning  home  we  es- 
caped a  considerable  danger.  The  iron  screw  bolts  of  the  driving- 
seat  suddenly  giving  way,  the  servants  were  very  nearly  precipitated 
upon  the  backs  of  the  horses.  Had  it  been  down  hill  instead  of  be- 
ing on  the  level,  the  horses  must  have  taken  fright,  and  the  conse- 
quences might  have  been  fatal.  Indeed,  they  had  almost  taken  fright 
as  it  was,  had  not  Peter  Matheson,1  who,  in  Mr.  Fag's  phrase,  I  take 
to  be,  "  the  discreetest  of  whips,"  "  kept  his  presence  of  mind,  when 
losing  his  equilibrium,  so  that  he  managed  to  keep  the  horses  in  hand 
until  we  all  got  out.  I  must  say  it  is  not  the  first  imminent  danger 
on  which  I  have  seen  Peter  (my  Automedon  for  near  twenty-five 
years)  behave  with  the  utmost  firmness. 

July  16. — Very  unsatisfactory  to-day.  Sleepy,  stupid,  indolent — 
finished  arranging  the  books,  and  after  that  was  totally  useless — un- 
less it  can  be  called  study  that  I  slumbered  for  three  or  four  hours 
over  a  variorum  edition  of  the  Gill's-Hill's  tragedy.3  Admirable  rec- 
ipe for  low  spirits — for,  not  to  mention  the  brutality  of  so  extraordi- 
nary a  murder,  it  led  John  Bull  into  one  of  his  uncommon  fits  of 
gambols,  until  at  last  he  become  so  maudlin  as  to  weep  for  the  piti- 
less assassin,  Thurtell,  and  treasure  up  the  leaves  and  twigs  of  the 
hedge  and  shrubs  in  the  fatal  garden  as  valuable  relics — nay,  thronged 
the  minor  theatres  to  see  the  very  roan  horse  and  yellow  gig  in  which 
the  body  was  transported  from  one  place  to  another.  I  have  not 
stept  over  the  threshold  to-day,  so  very  stupid  have  I  been. 

July  17. — Desidice  longum  valedixi.  Our  time  is  like  our  money. 
When  we  change  a  guinea,  the  shillings  escape  as  things  of  small  ac- 
count ;  when  we  break  a  day  by  idleness  in  the  morning,  the  rest  of 
the  hours  lose  their  importance  in  our  eye.  I  set  stoutly  to  work 
about  seven  this  morning  to  Boney — 

And  long  ere  dinner-time,  I  have 

Full  eight  close  pages  wrote ; 
What,  Duty,  hast  thou  now  to  crave  ? 

Well  done,  Sir  Walter  Scott ! 

July  18. — This,  as  yesterday,  has  been  a  day  of  unremitting  la- 
bour, though  I  only  got  through  half  the  quantity  of  manuscript, 

i  In  1827  Scott  was  one  day  heard  saying,  as.  at  Gill's-Hill  in  Hertfordshire  (1824).    Sir  Wai- 
he  saw  Peter  guiding  the  plough  on  the  ha\igh :  ter  collected  printed  trials  with  great  assiduity, 
— "  Egad,  auld  Pope's  whistling  at  his  darg:  if  and  took  care  always  to  have  the  contemporary 
things  get  round  with  me,  easy  will  be  his  cush-  ballads  and  prints  bound  up  with  them.     He 
ion!"  Old  Peter  lived  until  he  was  eighty-four.  admired  particularly  this  verso  of  Mr.  Hook's 
He  died  at  Abbotsford  in  1854,  where  he  had  broadside — 
been  well  cared  for,  respected,  and  beloved  by 
all  the  members  of  the  family  since  Sir  Wai-  "Th,|7  Cbnt-hi8t'hhro(lbta[™mrte"  *°  *"' 

ter'S  death.  HU  nam""^  Xlr.  WmLnVeare, 

a  Sheridan's  Rival?,  Act  n.  Sc.  1.  He  dwelt  in  LyonU  inn." 

3  The  murder  of  Weare  by  Thurtell  and  Co.,  — j.  o.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  149 

owing  to  drowsiness,  a  most  disarming  annoyance.  I  walked  a  little 
before  dinner  and  after  tea,  but  was  unable  to  go  with  the  girls  and 
Charles  to  the  top  of  Cauldshiels  Hill.  I  fear  my  walking  powers 
are  diminishing,  but  why  not?  They  ha^  been  wonderfully  long 
efficient,  all  things  considered,  only  I  fear  I  shall  get  fat  and  fall  into 
diseases.  Well,  things  must  be  as  they  may.  Let  us  use  the  time 
and  faculties  which  God  has  left  us,  and  trust  futurity  to  his  guid- 
ance. Amen. 

This  is  the  day  of  St.  BoswelPs  Fair.  That  watery  saint  has  for 
once  had  a  dry  festival. 

July  19. — Wrote  a  page  this  morning,  but  no  more.  Corrected 
proofs  however,  and  went  to  Selkirk  to  hold  Sheriff  Court ;  this  con- 
sumed the  forenoon.  Colonel  and  Miss  Ferguson,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Laidlaw,  dined  and  occupied  the  evening.  The  rain  seemed  to  set  in 
this  night. 

July  20. — To-day  rainy.  *A  morning  and  forenoon  of  hard  work. 
About  five  pages,  which  makes  up  for  yesterday's  lee  way.  I  am 
sadly  tired  however.  But  as  I  go  to  Mertoun  at  four,  and  spend  the 
night  there,  the  exertion  was  necessary. 

July  21. — To  Mertoun  we  went  accordingly.  Lord  and  Lady 
Minto  were  there,  with  part  of  their  family,  David  Haliburton,  etc., 
besides  their  own  large  family.  So  my  lodging  was  a  little  room 
which  I  had  not  occupied  since  I  was  a  bachelor,  but  often  before  in 
my  frequent  intercourse  with  this  kind  and  hospitable  family.  Feel- 
ing myself  returned  to  that  celibacy,  which  renders  many  accommo- 
dations indifferent  which  but  lately  were  indispensable,  my  imagina- 
tion drew  a  melancholy  contrast  between  the  young  man  entering  the 
world  on  fire  for  fame,  and  restless  in  imagining  means  of  coming  by 
it,  and  the  aged  widower,  blase  on  the  point  of  literary  reputation,  de- 
prived of  the  social  comforts  of  a  married  state,  and  looking  back  to 
regret  instead  of  looking  forward  to  hope.  This  brought  bad  sleep 
and  unpleasing  dreams.  But  if  I  cannot  hope  to  be  what  I  have 
been,  I  will  not,  if  I  can  help  it,  suffer  vain  repining  to  make  me  worse 
than  I  may  be. 

We  left  Mertoun  after  breakfast,  and  the  two  Annes  and  I  visited 
Lady  Raeburn  at  Lessudden.  My  Aunt  is  now  in  her  ninetieth  year 
— so  clean,  so  nice,  so  well  arranged  in  every  respect,  that  it  makes 
old  age  lovely.  She  talks  both  of  late  and  former  events  with  perfect 
possession  of  her  faculties,  and  has  only  failed  in  her  limbs.  A  great 
deal  of  kind  feeling  has  survived,  in  spite  of  the  frost  of  years. 

Home  to  dinner,  and  worked  all  the  afternoon  among  the  Moni- 
teurs — to  little  purpose,  for  my  principal  acquisition  was  a  headache. 
I  wrote  nothing  to-day  but  part  of  a  trifle  for  Blackwood. 

July  22. — The  same  severe  headache  attends  my  poor  pate.  But 
I  have  worked  a  good  deal  this  morning,  and  will  do  more.  I  wish 
to  have  half  the  volume  sent  into  town  on  Monday  if  possible.  It  will 
be  a  royal  effort,  and  more  than  make  up  for  the  blanks  of  this  week. 


150  JOURNAL  [JULY 

July  23. — I  wrote  very  hard  this  day,  and  attained  page  40;  45 
would  be  more  than  half  the  volume.  Colonel  Russell  came  about 
one,  and  carried  me  out  a-walking,  which  I  was  all  the  better  of.  In 
the  evening  we  expected«Terry  and  his  wife,  but  they  did  not  come, 
which  makes  me  fear  she  may  be  unwell  again. 

July  24. — A  great  number  of  proof-sheets  to  revise  and  send  off, 
and  afte^  that  I  took  a  fancy  to  give  a  more  full  account  of  the  Con- 
stitution framed  by  Sieyes — a  complicated  and  ingenious  web ;  it  is 
but  far  too  fine  and  critical  to  be  practically  useful. 

July  25. — Terry  and  wife  arrived  yesterday.  Both  very  well.  At 
dinner-time  to-day  came  Dr.  Jamieson1  of  the  Scottish  Dictionary,  an 
excellent  good  man,  and  full  of  auld  Scottish  cranks,  which  amuse  me 
well  enough,  but  are  caviare  to  the  young  people.  A  little  prolix  and 
heavy  is  the  good  Doctor ;  somewhat  prosaic,  and  accustomed  to 
much  attention  on  the  Sunday  from  his  congregation,  and  I  hope  on 
the  six  other  days  from  his  family.  So  lie  will  demand  full  attention 
from  all  and  sundry  before  he  begins  a  story,  and  once  begun  there 
is  no  chance  of  his  ending. 

July  26. — This  day  went  to  Selkirk,  and  held  a  Court.  The  Doc- 
tor and  Terry  chose  to  go  with  me.  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  came 
to  dinner.  Desperate  warm  weather !  Little  done  in  the  literary  way 
except  sending  off  proofs.  Roup  of  standing  corn,  etc.,  went  off  very 
indifferently.  Letter  from  Ballantyne  wanting  me  to  write  about  ab- 
sentees. But  I  have  enough  to  do  without  burning  Tny  fingers  with 
politics. 

July  27. — Up  and  at  it  this  morning,  and  finished  four  pages.  An 
unpleasant  letter  from  London,  as  if  I  might  be  troubled  by  some  of 
the  creditors  there,  when  going  to  town  to  get  materials  for  Nap.  I 
have  no  wish  to  go, — none  at  all.  I  would  even  like  to  put  off  my 
visit,  so  far  as  John  Lockhart  and  my  daughter  are  concerned,  and 
see  them  when  the  meeting  could  be  more  pleasant.  But  then,  hav- 
ing an  offer  to  see  the  correspondence  from  St.  Helena,  I  can  make 
no  doubt  that  I  ought  to  go.  However,  if  it  is  to  infer  any  danger  to 
my  personal  freedom,  English  wind  will  not  blow  on  me.  It  is  mon- 
strous hard  to  prevent  me  doing  what  is  certainly  the  best  for  all 
parties. 

July  28. — I  am  well-nigh  choked  with  the  sulphurous  heat  of  the 
weather — or  I  am  unwell,  for  I  perspire  as  if  I  had  been  walking 
hard,  and  my  hand  is  as  nervous  as  a  paralytic's.  Read  through  and 
corrected  St.  Kenan's  Well.  I  am  no  judge,  but  I  think  the  lan- 
guage of  this  piece  rather  good.  Then  I  must  allow  the  fashion- 
able portraits  are  not  the  true  thing.  I  am  too  much  out  of  the 
way  to  see  and  remark  the  ridiculous  in  society.  The  story  is  ter- 
ribly contorted  and  unnatural,  and  the  catastrophe  is  melancholy, 

»  Dr.  John  Jamieson,  formerly  minister  to  a  nciated  for  forty-three  years;  he  died  in  his 
Secession  congregation  in  Forfar,  removed  to  a  house  in*  George  Square  in  1838,  aged  seventy- 
like  charge  in  Edinburgh  in  1795,  where  be  of-  nine. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  151 

which  should  always  be  avoided.  No  matter ;  I  have  corrected  it  for 
the  press.1 

The  worthy  Lexicographer  left  us  to-day.  Somewhat  ponderous 
he  is,  poor  soul !  but  there  are  excellent  things  about  him. 

Action  and  Reaction — Scots  proverb:  "the  unrest  (i.e.  pendulum) 
of  a  clock  goes  aye  as  far  the  ae  gait  as  the  t'other." 

Walter's  account  of  his  various  quarters  per  last  despatch^  Query 
if  original : — 

"  Loughrea  is  a  blackguard  place 

To  Gort  I  give  my  curse; 
Athlone  itself  is  bad  enough, 

But  Ballinrobe  is  worse. 
I  cannot  tell  which  is  the  worst, 

They're  all  so  very  bad  ; 
But  of  all  towns  I  ever  saw, 

Bad  luck  to  Kinnegad." 

Old  Mr.  Haliburton  dined  with  us,  also  Colonel  Russell.  What  a  man 
for  fourscore  or  thereby  is  Old  Haly — an  Indian  too.  He  came  home 
in  1785. 

July  29. — Yesterday  I  wrought  little,  and  light  work,  almost  sti- 
fled by  the  smothering  heat.  To-day  I  wrought  about  half  task  in 
the  morning,  and,  as  a  judgment  on  me  I  think  for  yesterday's  sloth, 
Mr.  H.  stayed  unusually  late  in  the  forenoon.  He  is  my  friend,  my 
father's  friend,  and  an  excellent,  sensible  man  besides ;  and  a  man  of 
eighty  and  upwards  may  be  allowed  to  talk  long,  because  in  the  nat- 
ure of  things  he  cannot  have  long  to  talk.  If  I  do  a  task  to-day,  I 
hope  to  send  a  good  parcel  on  Monday  and  keep  tryst  pretty  well. 

July  30. — I  did  better  yesterday  than  I  had  hoped  for — four  in- 
stead of  three  pages,  which,  considering  how  my  time  was  cut  up  by 
prolonged  morning  lounging  with  friend  Haly,  was  pretty  fair.  I 
wrote  a  good  task  before  eleven  o'clock,  but  then  my  good  friends 
twaddled  and  dawdled  for  near  two  hours  before  they  set  off.  The 
time  devoted  to  hospitality,  especially  to  those  whom  I  can  reckon 
upon  as  sincere  good  friends,  I  never  grudge,  but  like  to  "  welcome 
the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest."  By  my  will  every  guest  should 
part  at  half -past  ten,  or  arrange  himself  to  stay  for  the  day. 

We  had  a  long  walk  in  a  sweltering  hot  day.  Met  Mr.  Blackwood 
coming  to  call,  and  walked  him  on  with  us,  so  blinked  his  visit — gra- 
tias,  domine ! !  Asked  him  for  breakfast  to-morrow  to  make  amends. 
I  rather  over-walked  myself — the  heat  considered. 

July  31. — I  corrected  six  sheets  and  sent  them  off,  with  eight 
leaves  of  copy,  so  I  keep  forward  pretty  well.  Blackwood  the  book- 
seller came  over  from  Chiefswood  to  breakfast,  and  this  kept  me  idle 
till  eleven  o'clock.  At  twelve  I  went  out  with  the  girls  in  the  socia- 

1  This  novel  was  passing  through  the  press  in  8vo,  12mo,  and  18mo,  to  complete  collective 
editions  in  these  sizes — J.  G.  L. 


152  JOURNAL  [JULY,  1826. 

ble,  and  called  on  the  family  at  Bemerside,  on  Dr.1  and  Mrs.  Brew- 
ster,  and  Mr.  Bainbridge  at  Gattonside  House.  It  was  five  ere  we  got 
home,  so  there  was  a  day  dished,  unless  the  afternoon  does  something 
for  us.  I  am  keeping  up  pretty  well,  however,  and,  after  all,  visitors 
will  come,  and  calls  must  be  made.  I  must  not  let  Anne  forego  the 
custom  of  well-bred  society. 

i  Afterwards  Sir  David  Brewster.    He  died  at  Allerley  House  on  the  Tweed,  aged  eighty -sev- 
en, on  February  10, 1868. 


AUGUST 

August  1. — Yesterday  evening  did  nothing  for  the  idlesse  of  the 
morning.  I  was  hungry  ;  eat  and  drank  and  became  drowsy ;  then  I 
took  to  arranging  the  old  plays,  of  which  Terry  had  brought  me  about 
a  dozen,  and  dipping  into  them  scrambled  through  two.  One,  called 
Michaelmas  Term,1  full  of  traits  of  manners ;  and  another  a  sort  of 
bouncing  tragedy,  called  the  Hector  of  Germany,  or  the  Palsgrave* 
The  last,  worthless  in  the  extreme,  is,  like  many  of  the  plays  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  seventeenth  century,  written  to  a  good  tune.  The  dra- 
matic poets  of  that  time  seem  to  have  possessed  as  joint-stock  a  high- 
ly poetical  and  abstract  tone  of  language,  so  that  the  worst  of  them 
often  remind  you  of  the  very  best.  The  audience  must  have  had  a 
much  stronger  sense  of  poetry  in  those  days  than  now,  since  language 
was  received  and  applauded  at  the  Fortune  or  at  the  Red  Bull,3  which 
could  not  now  be  understood  by  any  general  audience  in  Great  Brit- 
ain. This  leads  far. 

This  morning  I  wrote  two  hours,  then  out  with  Tom  Purdie,  and 
gave  directions  about  thinning  all  the  plantations  above  Abbotsford 
properly  so  called.  Came  in  at  one  o'clock  and  now  set  to  work.  De- 
bout,  debout,  Lyciscas,  debout,*  Finished  four  leaves. 

August  2. — Well ;  and  to-day  I  finished  before  dinner  five  leaves 
more,  and  I  would  crow  a  little  about  it,  but  here  comes  Duty  like  an 
old  housekeeper  to  an  idle  chambermaid.  Hear  her  very  words : — 

DUTY. — Oh  !  you  crow,  do  you  ?  Pray,  can  you  deny  that  your 
sitting  so  quiet  at  work  was  owing  to  its  raining  heavily  all  the  fore- 
noon, and  indeed  till  dinner-time,  so  that  nothing^would  have  stirred 
out  that  could  help  it,  save  a  duck  or  a  goose  ?  I  trow,  if  it  had  been 
a  fine  day,  by  noon  there  would  have  been  aching  of  the  head,  throb- 
bing, shaking,  and  so  forth,  to  make  an  apology  for  going  out. 

EGOMET  IPSE. — And  whose  head  ever  throbbed  to  go  out  when  it 
rained,  Mrs.  Duty  ? 

DUTY. — Answer  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest,  as  your  poor  friend 
Erskine  used  to  say  to  you  when  you  escaped  from  his  good  advice 
under  the  fire  of  some  silly  pun.  You  smoke  a  cigar  after  dinner, 
and  I  never  check  you — drink  tea,  too,  which  is  loss  of  time ;  and 
then,  instead  of  writing  me  one  other  page,  or  correcting  those  you 

i  By  Middleton,  1697.  '  Two   London  playhouses.  —  See   Knight's 

a  The  Hector  of  Gerraanie,  or  the  Palsgrave  Biography  of  Shakespeare. 

Prime  Elector.      An  Honourable  History  by 

William  Smith.    4to,  1615.  «  Moliere's  La  Princesse  EVlide  (Prologue). 


154  JOURNAL  [AUGUST 

have  written  out,  you  rollick  into  the  woods  till  you  have  not  a  dry 
thread  about  you ;  and  here  you  sit  writing  down  my  words  in  your 
foolish  journal  instead  of  minding  my  advice. 

EGO. — Why,  Mrs.  Duty,  I  would  as  gladly  be  friends  with  [you] 
as  Crabbe's1  tradesman  fellow  with  his  conscience ;  but  you  should 
have  some  consideration  with  human  frailty. 

DUTY. — Reckon  not  on  that.  But,  however,  good-night  for  the 
present.  I  would  only  recommend  to  you  to  think  no  thoughts  in 
which  I  am  not  mingled — to  read  no  books  in  which  I  have  no  con- 
cern— to  write  three  sheets  of  botheration  all  the  six  days  of  the  week 
per  diem,  and  on  the  seventh  to  send  them  to  the  printer.  Thus  ad- 
vising, I  heartily  bid  you  farewell. 

EGO. — Farewell,  madam  (exit  Duty)  and  be  d — d  to  ye  for  an  un- 
reasonable bitch  !  "  The  devil  must  be  in  this  greedy  gled  !"  as  the 
Earl  of  Angus  said  to  his  hawk  ;  "  will  she  never  be  satisfied  ?"  *  1 
believe  in  my  soul  she  is  the  very  hag  who  haunted  the  merchant 
Abudah.8 

I'll  have  my  great  chest  upstairs  exorcised,  but  first  I'll  take  a 
nap  till  supper,  which  must  take  place  within  ten  minutes. 

August  3. — Wrote  half  a  task  in  the  morning.  From  eleven  till 
half-past  eight  in  Selkirk  taking  precognitions  about  a  row,  and  came 
home  famished  and  tired.  Now,  Mrs.  Duty,  do  you  think  there  is  no 
other  Duty  of  the  family  but  yourself?  Or  can  the  Sheriff-depute 
neglect  his  Duty,  that  the  author  may  mind  his  ?  The  thing  cannot 
be ;  the  people  of  Selkirk  must  have  justice  as  well  as  the  people  of 
England  books.  So  the  two  Duties  may  go  pull  caps  about  it.  My 
conscience  is  clear. 

August  4. — Wrote  to  Miss  Edgeworth  on  her  sister's  marriage, 
which  consumed  the  better  part  of  the  morning.  I  must  read  for 
Marengo.  Item,  I  must  look  at  the  pruning.  Item,  at  the  otter  hunt ; 
but  my  hope  is  constant  to  make  up  a  good  day's  task  notwithstand- 
ing. Failed  in  finding  the  otter,  and  was  tired  and  slept,  and  did  but 
a  poor  day's  work.  » 

August  6. — Wrote  to-day  a  very  good  day's  work.  Walked  to 
Chiefswood,  and  saw  old  Mrs.  Tytler,*  a  friend  when  life  was  young. 
Her  husband,  Lord  Woodhouselee,  was  a  kind,  amiable,  and  accom- 
plished man ;  and  when  we  lived  at  Lasswade  Cottage,  soon  after  my 
marriage,  we  saw  a  great  deal  of  the  family,  who  were  very  kind  to  us 
as  newly  entered  on  the  world.6  Walked  home,  and  worked  in  the 
evening ;  four  leaves  finished. 

August  7. — My  niece  Anne  leaves  us  this  morning,  summoned 

'  See  Crabbe's  Tale  of  The  Struggles  of  Con-  nain.— See  Burgon's  Life  of  P.  F.  Tytler,  8vo, 

science.—  i.  o.  L.  Lend.  1859.     Mrs.  Tytler  died  in  London,  aged 

*  Tales   of  a    Grandfather,    Miscell.    Prose  eighty-four,  in  1837. 

Works,  vol.  xxiii.  p.  72.  6  Alexr.  Fraser  Tytler,  1747-1813.     Besides 

8  See  Tales  of  the  Genii.     The  Talisman  of  his  acknowledged  works,  Lord  Woodhouselee 

Oromanes.  published  anonymously  a  translation  of  Schll- 

«  Eldest  daughter  of  William  Fraser  of  Bal-  ler's  Robbers  as  early  as  1792. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  155 

back  from  one  scene  of  distress  to  another.  Her  uncle,  David  Mac- 
culloch,  is  extremely  ill  —  a  paralytic  stroke,  I  fancy.  She  is  a 
charming  girl,  lady-like  in  thought  and  action,  and  very  pleasant  in 
society.  We  are  to  dine  to-day  with  our  neighbours  at  Gattonside. 
Meantime  I  will  avail  myself  of  my  disposition  to  labour,  and  work 
instead  of  journalising. 

Mr.  H.  Cranstoun1  looked  in — a  morning  call.  He  is  become  ex- 
tremely deaf.  He  gave  me  a  letter  from  the  Countess  Purgstall,  his 
sister,  which  I  have  not  the  heart  to  open,  so  many  reproaches  I  have 
deserved  for  not  writing.  It  is  a  sad  thing,  though,  to  task  eyes  as 
hard  wrought  as  mine  to  keep  up  correspondence.  Dined  at  Gatton- 
side.* 

August  8. — Wrote  my  task  this  morning,  and  now  for  walk.  Dine 
to-day  at  Chiefswood ;  have  company  to-morrow.  Why,  this  is  dis- 
sipation !  But  no  matter,  Mrs.  Duty,  if  the  task  is  done.  "  Ay,  but," 
says  she,  "  you  ought  to  do  something  extra  —  provide  against  a 
rainy  day."  Not  I,  I'll  make  a  rainy  day  provide  against  a  fair  one, 
Mrs.  Duty.  I  write  twice  as  much  in  bad  weather.  Seriously,  I  write 
fully  as  much  as  I  ought.  I  do  not  like  this  dull  aching  in  the  chest 
and  the  back,  and  its  giving  way  to  exercise  shows  that  it  originates 
in  remaining  too  long  in  a  sitting  posture.  So  I'll  take  the  field,  while 
the  day  is  good. 

August  9. — I  wrote  only  two  leaves  to-day,  but  with  as  many  ad- 
ditions as  might  rank  for  three.  I  had  a  long  and  warm  walk.  Mrs. 
Tytler  of  Woodhouselee,  the  Hamiltons,  and  Colonel  Ferguson  dined 
here.  How  many  early  stories  did  the  old  lady's  presence  recall ! 
She  might  almost  be  my  mother,  yet  there  we  sat,  like  two  people 
of  another  generation,  talking  of  things  and  people  the  rest  knew 
nothing  of.  When  a  certain  period  of  life  is  survived,  the  difference 
of  years  between  the  survivors,  even  when  considerable,  becomes  of 
much  less  consequence. 

August  10. — Rose  early,  and  wrote  hard  till  two,  when  I  went 
with  Anne  to  Minto.  The  place,  being  new  to  my  companion,  gave 
her  much  amusement.  We  found  the  Scotts  of  Harden,  etc.,  and  had 
a  very  pleasant  party.  I  like  Lady  M.  particularly,  but  missed  my 
facetious  and  lively  friend,  Lady  A[nna]  Mfaria].3  It  is  the  fashion 
for  women  and  silly  men  to  abuse  her  as  a  blue-stocking.  If  to  have 
wit,  good  sense,  and  good-humour,  mixed  with  a  strong  power  of 
observing,  and  an  equally  strong  one  of  expressing  the  result,  be 
blue,  she  shall  be  as  blue  as  they  will.  Such  cant  is  the  refuge  of 
persons  who  fear  those  who  they  [think]  can  turn  them  into  ridicule  ; 

1  Henry  Cranstoun,  elder  brother  of  Lord  Hall  to  have  been  the  prototype  of  Diana  Ver- 
Corehouse  and  Countess  Purgstall.    He  resided  non  —  "that  safest  of  secret  keepers."  —  See 
for  some  years  near  Abbotsford,  at  the  Pavil-  Schloss  Hainfeld,  8vo,  Lond.  1836. 
ion  on  the  Tweed,  where  he  died  in  1843,  aged  a  The  property  of  Gattonside  had  been  pur- 
eighty-six.   An  interesting  account  of  Countess  chased  in  1824  by  George  Bainbridge  of  Liver- 
Purgstall  is  given  by  Basil  Hall,  who  was  with  pool,  a  keen  angler,  author  of  The  Fly  Fisher't 
her  in  Styria  at  her  death  in  1835.     This  very  Guide,  8vo,  Liverpool,  1816. 
early  friend  of  Scott's  was  thought  by  Captain  '  Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot,  see  ante,  p.  85. 


156  JOURNAL  [AUGUST 

it  is  a  common  trick  to  revenge  supposed  raillery  with  good  substan- 
tial calumny.  Slept  at  Minto. 

August  11. — I  was  up  as  usual,  and  wrote  about  two  leaves,  mean- 
ing to  finish  my  task  at  home ;  but  found  my  Sheriff-substitute1  here 
on  my  return,  which  took  up  the  evening.  But  I  shall  finish  the  vol- 
ume on  Sunday ;  that  is  less  than  a  month  after  beginning  it.  The 
same  exertion  would  bring  the  book  out  at  Martinmas,  but  December 
is  a  better  time. 

August  12. — Wrote  a  little  in  the  morning ;  then  Duty  and  I  have 
settled  that  this  is  to  be  a  kind  of  holiday,  providing  the  volume  be 
finished  to-morrow.  I  went  to  breakfast  at  Chiefswood,  and  after 
that  affair  was  happily  transacted,  I  wended  me  merrily  to  the  Black 
Cock  Stripe,  and  there  caused  Tom  Purdie  and  John  Swanston  cut  out 
a  quantity  of  firs.  Got  home  about  two  o'clock,  and  set  to  correct  a 
set  of  proofs.  James  Ballantyne  presages  well  of  this  work,  but  is 
afraid  of  inaccuracies — so  am  I — but  things  must  be  as  they  may. 
There  is  a  kind  of  glamour  about  me,  which  sometimes  makes  me 
read  dates,  etc.,  in  the  proof-sheets,  not  as  they  actually  do  stand, 
but  as  they  ought  to  stand.  I  wonder  if  a  pill  of  holy  trefoil  would 
dispel  this  fascination. 

By  the  way,  John  Swanston  measured  a  young  shoot  that  was  grow- 
ing remarkably,  and  found  that  for  three  days  successively  it  grew 
half  an  inch  every  day.  Fine-ear"  used  to  hear  the  grass  grow — how 
far  off  would  he  have  heard  this  extravagant  rapidity  of  vegetation  ? 
The  tree  is  a  silver  fir  or  spruce  in  the  patch  at  the  Green-tongue 
park. 

August  13. — Yesterday  I  was  tired  of  labouring  in  the  rough 
ground.  Well,  I  must  be  content  to  feel  my  disabilities  increase. 
One  sure  thing  is,  that  all  wise  men  will  soon  contrive  to  lay  aside  in- 
clination when  performance  grows  toilsome.  I  have  hobbled  over 
many  a  rough  heugh  in  my  day — no  wonder  if  I  must  sing  at  last — 

"  Thus  says  the  auld  man  to  the  aik  tree, 
Sair  failed,  hinny,  since  I  kenn'd  thee." 

But  here  are  many  a  mile  of  smooth  walk,  just  when  I  grow  unable 
to  face  bent  and  brae,  and  here  is  the  garden  when  all  fails.  To  a 
sailor  the  length  of  his  quarter-deck  is  a  good  space  of  exercising 
ground. 

I  wrote  a  good  task  to-day,  then  walked  to  the  lake,  then  came 
back  by  three  o'clock,  hungering  and  thirsting  to  finish  the  volume. 
I  have  seldom  such  fits  of  voluntary  industry,  so  Duty  shall  have  the 
benefit. 

Finished  volume  iv.  this  evening — Deo  Gratias. 

August  14. — This  is  a  morning  I  have  not  seen  many  a  day,  for 
it  appears  to  set  in  for  a  rainy  day.  It  has  not  kept  its  word  though. 

»  W.  Scott  of  Maxpopple.  "  In  the  fairy  tale  of  Countess  D'Aulnoy.— . 

Fortunio. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  157 

I  was  seized  by  a  fit  of  the  "  clevers,"  and  finished  my  task  by 
twelve  o'clock,  and  hope  to  add  something  in  the  evening.  I  was 
guilty,  however,  of  some  waywardness,  for  I  began  volume  v.  of  Boney 
instead  of  carrying  on  the  Canongate  as  I  proposed.  The  reason,  how- 
ever, was  that  I  might  not  forget  the  information  I  had  acquired 
about  the  Treaty  of  Amiens. 

August  1 5. — The  weather  seems  decidedly  broken.  Yesterday, 
indeed,  cleared  up,  but  this  day  seems  to  persevere  in  raining.  Na- 
boclish  !  It's  a  rarity  nowadays.  I  write  on,  though  a  little  afflicted 
with  the  oppression  on  my  chest.  Sometimes  I  think  it  is  something 
dangerous,  but  as  it  always  goes  away  on  change  of  posture,  it 
cannot  be  speedily  so.  I  want  to  finish  my  task,  and  then  good- 
night. I  will  never  relax  my  labour  in  these  affairs,  either  for  fear 
of  pain  or  love  of  life.  I  will  die  a  free  man,  if  hard  working 
will  do  it.  Accordingly,  to-day  I  cleared  the  ninth  leaf,  which  is 
the  tenth  part  of  a  volume,  in  two  days — four  and  a  half  leaves 
a  day.  Walter  and  Jane,  with  Mrs.  Jobson,  are  arrived  to  inter- 
rupt me. 

August  16. — God  be  praised  for  restoring  to  me  my  dear  chil- 
dren in  good  health,  which  has  made  me  happier  than  anything  that 
has  happened  these  several  months.  Walter  and  Jane  appear  cordial 
and  happy  in  each  other ;  the  greatest  blessing  Heaven  can  bestow  on 
them  or  me  who  witness  it.  If  we  had  Lockhart  and  Sophia,  there 
would  be  a  meeting  of  the  beings  dearest  to  me  in  life.  Walked  to 
Huntly  Burn,  where  I  found  a  certain  lady  on  a  visit — so  youthy,  so 
beautiful,  so  strong  in  voice — with  sense  and  learning — above  all,  so 
fond  of  good  conversation,  that,  in  compassion  to  my  eyes,  ears,  and 
understanding,  I  bolted  in  the  middle  of  a  tremendous  shower  of  rain, 
and  rather  chose  to  be  wet  to  the  skin  than  to  be  bethumped  with 
words  at  that  rate.  There  seemed  more  than  I  of  the  same  opinion, 
for  Col.  Ferguson  chose  the  ducking  rather  than  the  conversation. 
Young  Mr.  Surtees  came  this  evening. 

August  17. — Wrote  half  a  leaf  short  of  my  task,  having  proofs, 
etc.,  to  correct,  and  being  called  early  to  walk  with  the  ladies.  I 
have  gained  three  leaves  in  the  two  following  days,  so  I  cannot  blame 
myself.  Sat  cito  si  sat  bene.  Sat  boni  I  am  sure — I  may  say — a 
truly  execrable  pun  that ;  hope  no  one  will  find  it  out. 

In  the  evening  we  had  music  from  the  girls,  and  the  voice  of  the 
harp  and  viol  were  heard  in  my  halls  once  more,  which  have  been,  so 
long  deprived  of  mirth.  It  is  with  a  mixed  sensation  I  hear  these 
sounds.  I  look  on  my  children  and  am  happy ;  and  yet  every  now 
and  then  a  pang  shoots  across  my  heart.  It  seems  so  strange  that 
my  poor  wife  should  not  be  there.  But  enough  of  this.  Colonel 
Ferguson  dined. 

August  1 8. — Again  I  fell  a  half  page  behind,  being  summoned  out 
too  early  for  my  task,  but  I  am  still  two  leaves  before  on  the  whole 
week.  It  is  natural  to  see  as  much  of  these  young  people  as  I  can. 


158  JOURNAL  [AUGUST 

Walter  talks  of  the  Ionian  Islands.  It  is  an  awful  distance.  A  long 
walk  in  very  warm  weather.  Music  in  the  evening. 

August  19. — This  morning  wrote  none,  excepting  extracts,  etc., 
being  under  the  necessity  of  reading  and  collating  a  great  deal, 
which  lasted  till  one  o'clock  or  thereabouts,  when  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Brewster  and  their  young  people  came  to  spend  a  day  of  happiness 
at  the  lake.  We  were  met  there  by  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  and 
a  full  party.  Since  the  days  of  Seged,  Emperor  of  Ethiopia,1  these 
days  of  appointed  sport  and  happiness  have  seldom  answered ;  but 
we  came  off  indifferently  well.  We  did  not  indeed  catch  much  fish ; 
but  we  lounged  about  in  a  delightful  day,  eat  and  drank — and  the 
children,  who  are  very  fine  infantry,  were  clamorously  enjoying  them- 
selves. We  sounded  the  loch  in  two  or  three  different  places — the 
deepest  may  be  sixty  feet.  I  was  accustomed  to  think  it  much  more, 
but  your  deepest  pools,  like  your  deepest  politicians  and  philoso- 
phers, often  turn  out  more  shallow  than  was  expected.  The  whole 
party  dine  with  us. 

August  20. — Wrote  four  leaves.  The  day  wet  and  rainy,  though 
not  uniformly  so.  No  temptation,  however,  to  play  truant ;  so  this 
will  make  some  amends  for  a  blank  day  yesterday.  I  am  far  in 
advance  of  the  press,  but  it  is  necessary  if  I  go  to  Drumlanrig  on 
Wednesday  as  I  intend,  and  to  Lochore  next  week,  which  I  also 
meditate.  This  will  be  no  great  interruption,  however,  if  I  can  keep 
the  Canongate  moving,  for  I  shall  be  more  than  half  a  volume  in 
advance  with  Napoleon. 

August  21. — Wrought  out  my  task,  though  much  bothered  with 
a  cold  in  my  head  and  face,  how  caught  I  know  not.  Mrs.  Cramp- 
ton,  wife  of  the  Surgeon-General2  in  Ireland,  sends  to  say  she  is  here- 
abouts, so  we  ask  her.  Hospitality  must  not  be  neglected,  and  most 
hospitable  are  the  Cramptons.  All  the  "  calliachs  "*  from  Huntly 
Burn  are  to  be  here,  and  Anne  wishes  we  may  have  enough  of  din- 
ner. Naboclish !  it  is  hoped  there  will  be  a  piece  de  resistance. 

August  22. — Mrs.  and  Misses  Crampton  departed.  I  was  rather 
sorry  to  give  them  such  brief  entertainment,  for  they  were  extremely 
kind.  But  going  to  Eildon  Hall  to-day,  and  to  Drumlanrig  to-mor- 
row, there  was  nothing  more  could  be  done  for  them.  It  is  raining 
now  "  successfully"  as  old  Macfarlane  of  the  Arroquhar  used  to  say. 
What  is  the  odds  ?  We  get  a  soaking  before  we  cross  the  Birken- 
dailly — wet  against  dry,  ten  to  one. 

August  23  [Bittoclc's  Bridge]. — Set  off  cheerily  with  Walter, 
Charles,  and  Surtees  in  the  sociable,  to  make  our  trip  to  Drumlanrig. 
We  breakfasted  at  Mr.  Boyd's,  Broadmeadows,  and  were  received 
with  Yarrow  hospitality.  From  thence  climbed  the  Yarrow,  and 

'  See  Johnson's  Rambler,  Nos.  204  and  205.  had  met,  not  in  person  only,  but  in  the  liveli- 

1  Afterwards  Sir  Philip  Crampton.     "The  ness  and  range  of  his  talk. " — Life,  voL  viii.  p. 

Surgeon-General  struck  Sir  Walter  as  being  23. 

more  like  Sir  Humphry  Davy  than  any  man  be  '  Gaelic  for  "old  women." 


1826.]  JOURNAL  159 

skirted  Saint  Mary's  Lake,  and  ascended  the  Birkhill  path,  under  the 
moist  and  misty  influence  of  the  yenius  loci.  Never  mind  ;  my  com- 
panions were  merry  and  I  cheerful.  When  old  people  can  be  with 
the  young  without  fatiguing  them  or  themselves,  their  tempers  de- 
rive the  same  benefits  which  some  fantastic  physicians  of  old  sup- 
posed accrued  to  their  constitutions  from  the  breath  of  the  young 
and  healthy.  You  have  not,  cannot  again  have,  their  gaiety  of  pleas- 
ure in  seeing  sights,  but  still  it  reflects  itself  upon  you,  and  you  are 
cheered  and  comforted.  Our  luncheon  eaten  in  the  herd's  cottage ; 
but  the  poor  woman  saddened  me  unawares,  by  asking  for  poor 
Charlotte,  whom  she  had  often  seen  there  with  me.  She  put  me  in 
mind  that  I  had  come  twice  over  those  hills  and  bogs  with  a  wheeled- 
carriage,  before  the  road,  now  an  excellent  one,  was  made.  I  knew  it 
was  true  ;  but,  on  my  soul,  looking  where  we  must  have  gone,  I  could 
hardly  believe  I  had  been  such  a  fool.  For  riding,  pass  if  you  will ; 
but  to  put  one's  neck  in  such  a  venture  with  a  wheeled-carriage  was 
too  silly.  Here  we  are,  however,  at  Bittock's  Inn  for  this  night. 

Drumlanrig,  August  24. — This  morning  lunched  at  Parkgate  un- 
der a  very  heavy  shower,  and  then  pushed  on  to  Drumlanrig,  where  I 
was  pleased  to  see  the  old  Castle,  and  old  servants  solicitous  and 
anxious  to  be  civil.  What  visions  does  not  this  magnificent  old 
house  bring  back  to  me !  The  exterior  is  much  improved  since  I 
first  knew  it.  It  was  then  in  the  state  of  dilapidation  to  which  it  had 
been  abandoned  by  the  celebrated  old  Q.,1  and  was  indeed  scarce 
wind  and  water  tight.  Then  the  whole  wood  had  been  felled,  and 
the  outraged  castle  stood  in  the  midst  of  waste  and  desolation,  ex- 
cepting a  few  scattered  old  stumps,  not  judged  worth  the  cutting. 
Now  the  whole  has  been,  ten  or  twelve  years  since,  completely  re- 
planted, and  the  scattered  seniors  look  as  graceful  as  fathers  sur- 
rounded by  their  children.  The  face  of  this  immense  estate  has 
been  scarcely  less  wonderfully  changed.  The  scrambling  tenants, 
who  held  a  precarious  tenure  of  lease  under  the  Duke  of  Queens- 
berry,  at  the  risk  (as  actually  took  place)  of  losing  their  possession  at 
his  death,  have  given  room  to  skilful  and  labouring  men,  working 
their  farms  regularly,  and  enjoying  comfortable  houses  and  their 
farms  at  a  fair  rent,  which  is  enough  to  forbid  idleness,  but  not 
enough  to  overpower  industry. 

August  25. — Here  are  Lord  and  Lady  Home,"  Charles  Douglas,3 
Lord  and  Lady  Charlotte  Stopford.4  I  grieve  to  say  the  last,  though 

i  William  Douglas,  fourth  Duke  of  Queens-  also  George  Selwyn  and  his  Contemporaries,  4 

berry,  succeeded,  on  the  death  of  his  kinsman,  vols.  8vo,  Lond.  1843-4. 

Duke  Charles,  in  1778.     He  died  in  1810  at  the  3  Alexander,  tenth  Earl  of  Home,  and  his 

age  of  eighty-six,  when  his  titles  and  estates  wife,  Lady  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Henry,  third 

were  divided  between  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  Duke  of  Buccleuch. 

Lord  Douglas,  the  Marquis  of  Queensberry,  and  3  Charles,    second  son   of  Archibald    Lord 

the  Earl  of  Wemyss.  Douglas. 

See  Wordsworth's  indignant  lines  beginning:  *  James  Thomas,  Viscount  Stopford,  after- 
wards fourth  Earl  of  Courtowu,  and  his  wife, 

"  Degenerate  DouglM,  oh  the  unworthy  Lord  ";  Lady   Charlotte,   Sister   of  the   then  Duke   of 


160  JOURNAL  [AUGUST 

as  beautiful  as  ever,  is  extremely  thin,  and  looks  delicate.  The  Duke 
himself  has  grown  up  into  a  graceful  and  apparently  strong  young 
man,  and  received  us  most  kindly.  I  think  he  will  be  well  qualified 
to  sustain  his  difficult  and  important  task.  The  heart  is  excellent,  so 
are  the  talents, — good  sense  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  picked  up 
at  one  of  the  great  English  schools  (and  it  is  one  of  their  most  im- 
portant results),  will  prevent  him  from  being  deceived ;  and  with 
perfect  good-nature,  he  has  a  natural  sense  of  his  own  situation, 
which  will  keep  him  from  associating  with  unworthy  companions. 
God  bless  him !  His  father  and  I  loved  each  other  well,  and  his 
beautiful  mother  had  as  much  of  the  angel  as  is  permitted  to  walk 
this  earth.  I  see  the  balcony  from  which  they  welcomed  poor 
Charlotte  and  me,  long  ere  the  ascent  was  surmounted,  streaming  out 
their  white  handkerchiefs  from  the  battlements.  There  were  four 
merry  people  that  day — now  one  sad  individual  is  all  that  remains. 
Singula  praedantur  anni.  I  had  a  long  walk  to-day  through  the  new 
plantation,  the  Duchess's  Walk  by  the  Nith,  etc.  (formed  by  Prior's 
Kitty  young  and  gay ')  ;  fell  in  with  the  ladies,  but  their  donkeys 
outwalked  me — a  flock  of  sheep  afterwards  outwalked  me,  and  I  be- 
gin to  think,  on  my  conscience,  that  a  snail  put  in  training  might 
soon  outwalk  me.  I  must  lay  the  old  salve  to  the  old  sore,  and  be 
thankful  for  being  able  to  walk  at  all. 

Nothing  was  written  to-day,  my  writing-desk  having  been  forgot 
at  Parkgate,  but  Tom  Crighton  kindly  fetched  it  up  to-day,  so  some- 
thing more  or  less  may  be  done  to-morrow  morning — and  now  to. 
dress. 

[Hittock's  Bridge,]  August  26. — We  took  our  departure  from  the 
friendly  halls  of  Drumlanrig  this  morning  after  breakfast  and  leave- 
taking.  I  trust  this  young  nobleman  will  be 

"A  hedge  about  his  friends, 
A  hackle  to  his  foes."2 

I  would  have  him  not  quite  so  soft-natured  as  his  grandfather,  whose 
kindness  sometimes  mastered  his  excellent  understanding.  His  father 
had  a  temper  which  better  jumped  with  my  humour.  Enough  of  ill- 
nature  to  keep  your  good-nature  from  being  abused  is  no  bad  ingre- 
dient in  their  disposition  who  have  favours  to  bestow.* 

In  coming  from  Parkgate  here  I  intended  to  accomplish  a  purpose 

Buccleuch,  at  that  time  still  in  his  minority.  had  sung  her  "mad  Grace's"  praises,  Walpole 
Lady  Charlotte  died  within  eighteen  months  added  those  two  lines  to  the  Female  Phaeton — 
of  this  date.  „  To  msny  a  Kjtty  ^^  hia  CTr>  n  for  ^  ^  mffv:e> 

1  "Thn.  Kitty,  beautiful  and  young,  But  Prior'i  Kitty,  ever  fair,  obtained  it  for  an  age." 

And  wild  a,  colt  -tg^^^  ^^  she  dicd  at  a  great  ago  in  1777.     For  her  let- 

ter  to  George  n.  when  forbid  the  Court,  see 

Catherine  Hyde,  daughter  of  Henry  Earl  of  Agar  Ellis,  Historical  Inquiries,  Lond.  1827, 

Clarendon,  and  wife  of  Charles  Duke  of  Queens-  p.  40. 

berry.      She  was  the  friend  of  Gay,  and  her  *  Ballad  on  young  Rob  Roy's  abduction  of 

beauty,  wit,  and  oddities  have  been' celebrated  Jean  Key,  Cromek's  Collodions. — j.  G.  L. 

in  prose  and  rhyme  by  the  wits  and  poets  of  3  See  Letter  to  C.  K.  Sharpe,  from  Drumlan- 

two  generations.     Fifty-six  years  after  Prior  rig,  vol.  ii.  pp.  369-7L  • 


1826.]  JOURNAL  161 

which  I  have  for  some  years  entertained,  of  visiting  Lochwood,  the 
ancient  seat  of  the  Johnstones,  of  which  King  James  said,  when  he 
visited  it,  that  the  man  who  built  it  must  have  been  a  thief  in  his 
heart.  It  rained  heavily,  however,  which  prevented  my  making  this 
excursion,  and  indeed  I  rather  overwalked  myself  yesterday,  and  have 
occasion  for  rest. 

"  So  sit  down,  Robin,  and  rest  thee." 

Abbotsford,  August  27. — To-day  we  journeyed  through  the  hills 
and  amongst  the  storms  ;  the  weather  rather  bullying  than  bad.  We 
viewed  the  Grey  Mare's  Tail,  and  I  still  felt  confident  in  crawling 
along  the  ghastly  bank  by  which  you  approach  the  fall.  I  will  cer- 
tainly get  some  road  of  application  to  Mr.  Hope  Johnstone,  to  pray 
him  to  make  the  place  accessible.  We  got  home  before  half-past 
five,  having  travelled  forty  miles. 

Blair-Adam,  August  28. — Set  off  with  Walter  and  Jane  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  reached  this  place  in  the  middle  of  dinner-time.  By 
some  of  my  not  unusual  blunders  we  had  come  a  day  before  we  were 
expected.  Luckily,  in  this  ceremonious  generation,  there  are  still 
houses  where  such  blunders  only  cause  a  little  raillery,  and  Blair- 
Adam  is  one  of  them.  My  excellent  friend  is  in  high  health  and 
spirits,  to  which  the  presence  of  Sir  Frederick  adds  not  a  little.1  His 
lady  is  here — a  beautiful  woman,  whose  countenance  realises  all  the 
poetic  dreams  of  Byron.  There  is  certainly  [a]  something  of  full 
maturity  of  beauty  which  seems  framed  to  be  adoring  and  adored, 
and  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  full  dark  eye,  luxuriant  tresses,  and  rich 
complexion  of  Greece,  and  not  among  the  pale  unripened  beauties  of 
the  north.  AVhat  sort  of  a  mind  this  exquisite  casket  may  contain 
is  not  so  easily  known.  She  is  anxious  to  please,  and  willing  to  be 
pleased,  and,  with  her  striking  beauty,  cannot  fail  to  succeed. 

August  29. — To-day  we  designed  to  go  to  Lochore.  But  "  heigho ! 
the  wind  and  the  rain."  Besides  Mrs.  and  Admiral  Adam,  Mrs.  Loch, 
and  Miss  Adam,  I  find  here  Mr.  Impey,  son  of  that  Sir  Elijah  cele- 
brated in  Indian  history.  He  has  himself  been  in  India,  but  has,  with 
a  great  deal  of  sense  and  observation,  much  better  address  than  al- 
ways falls  to  the  share  of  the  Eastern  adventurer.  The  art  of  quiet 
and  entertaining  conversation,  which  is  always  easy  as  well  as  enter- 
taining, is  chiefly  known  in  England.  In  Scotland  we  are  pedantic 
and  wrangle,  or  we  run  away  with  the  harrows  on  some  topic  we 
chance  to  be  discursive  upon.  In  Ireland  they  have  too  much  vivaci- 
ty, and  are  too  desirous  to  make  a  show,  to  preserve  the  golden  mean. 
They  are  the  Gascons  of  Britain.  George  Ellis  was  the  best  converser 
I  ever  knew ;  his  patience  and  good  breeding  made  me  often  ashamed 
of  myself  going  off  at  score  upon  some  favourite  topic.  Richard  Sharp 

i  Sir  Frederick  Adam,  son  of  the  Chief  Com-      subsequently  Governor  of  Madras;  he  died  in 
missioner — a  distinguished  soldier,  afterwards      1853. 
High  Commissioner  of  the  Ionian  Islands,  and 
11 


162  JOURNAL  [AUGUST,  1826. 

is  so  celebrated  for  this  peculiar  gift  as  to  be  generally  called  Conver- 
sation Sharp.1  The  worst  of  this  talent  is  that  it  seems  to  lack  sin- 
cerity. You  never  know  what  are  the  real  sentiments  of  a  good  con- 
verser,  or  at  least  it  is  very  difficult  to  discover  to  what  extent  he 
entertains  them.  His  politeness  is  inconsistent  with  energy.  For 
forming  a  good  converser,  good  taste  and  extensive  information  and 
accomplishment  are  the  principal  requisites,  to  which  must  be  added 
an  easy  and  elegant  delivery  and  a  well-toned  voice.  I  think  the 
higher  order  of  genius  is  not  favourable  to  this  talent. 

Mrs.  Irapey,  an  intelligent  person,  likes  music,  and  particularly 
Scotch  airs,  which  few  people  play  better  than  Mrs.  Lockhart  and 
Miss  Louisa  Adam.  Had  a  letter  from  Mr.  William  Upcott,  London 
Institution,  proposing  to  me  to  edit  an  edition  of  Garrick's  Corre- 
spondence, which  I  declined  by  letter  of  this  day.  Thorough  de- 
cided downfall  of  rain.  Nothing  for  it  but  patience  and  proof-sheets. 

August  30. — The  weather  scarce  permitted  us  more  licence  than 
yesterday,  yet  we  went  down  to  Lochore,  and  Walter  and  I  perambu- 
lated the  property,  and  discussed  the  necessity  of  a  new  road  from 
the  south-west,  also  that  of  planting  some  willows  along  the  ditches 
in  the  low  grounds.  Returned  to  Blair-Adam  to  dinner. 

Abbotsford,  August  31. — Left  Blair  at  seven  in  the  morning. 
Transacted  business  with  Cadell  and  Ballantyne,  but  our  plans  will,  I 
think,  be  stopped  or  impeded  by  the  operations  before  the  Arbiter, 
Mr.  Irving,  who  leans  more  to  the  side  of  the  opposite  [party]  than  I 
expected.  I  have  a  letter  from  Gibson,  found  on  my  arrival  at  Ab- 
botsford,  which  gives  rather  a  gloomy  account  of  that  matter.  It 
seems  strange  that  I  am  to  be  bound  to  write  for  men  who  have 
broken  every  bargain  with  me. 

Arrived  at  Abbotsford  at  eight  o'clock  at  night. 

i  Mr.  Richard  Sharp  published  in  1834  a  very  Review,  102. — J.  o.  L.  He  had  been  Member  of 
elegant  and  interesting  little  volume  of  Letters  Parliament  from  1806  to  1820,  and  died  on  the 
and  Estays,  in  Prose  and  Verse.—  See  Quarterly  30th  of  March,  1835,  at  the  age  of  seventy  six. 


SEPTEMBER 

September  1. — Awaked  with  a  headache,  which  the  reconsideration 
of  Gibson's  news  did  not  improve.  We  save  Bonaparte  however,  and 
that  is  a  great  thing.  I  will  not  be  downcast  about  it,  let  the  worst 
come  that  can  ;  but  I  wish  I  saw  that  worst.  It  is  the  devil  to  be  strug- 
gling forward,  like  a  man  in  the  mire,  and  making  not  an  inch  by 
your  exertions,  and  such  seems  to  be  my  fate.  Well !  I  have  much 
to  comfort  me,  and  I  will  take  comfort.  If  there  be  further  wrath  to 
come,  I  shall  be  glad  that  I  bear  it  alone.  Poor  Charlotte  was  too 
much  softened  by  prosperity  to  look  adverse  circumstances  courage- 
ously in  the  face.  Anne  is  young,  and  has  Sophia  and  Jane  to  trust 
to  for  assistance. 

September  2. — Wrote  this  morning,  but  only  two  pages  or  there- 
abouts. At  twelve  o'clock  set  out  with  Anne  and  Walter  to  visit  at 
Makerstoun,  but  the  road  between  Makerstoun  and  Merton  being  very 
bad,  we  drove,  I  dare  say,  thirty  miles  in  going  and  coming,  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route,  and  only  got  home  at  half-past  seven  at  night.  Saw 
Lady  Brisbane  Makdougall,  but  not  Sir  Thomas.1  Thought  of  old  Sir 
Henry  and  his  older  father  Sir  George.  Received  a  box  of  Australian 
seeds,  forwarded  by  Andrew  Murray,  now  head-gardener  to  the  Gover- 
nor, whom  I  detected  a  clever  boy,  among  my  labourers  in  1812,  and 
did  a  little  for  him.  It  is  pleasant  to  see  men  thrive  and  be  grateful 
at  the  same  time,  so  good  luck  to  "Andrew  Mora,"  as  we  called  him. 

September  3. — Made  up  my  necessary  task  for  yesterday  and  to- 
day also,  but  not  more,  writing  very  heavily.  Cousin  Archie  Swinton 
came  to  dinner.  We  had  a  dish  of  cousinred  of  course — and  of  auld 
lang  syne? 

September  4. — Archie  Swinton  left  us  this  morning  early.  I  wrote 
from  seven  to  half-past  two ;  but,  partly  that  I  had  five  proof-sheets 
to  correct,  partly  that  like  old  John  Fraser3  "  I  was  not  very  cleever  to- 
day," I  made  out  but  a  page  and  a  half. 

September  5. — Wrote  task  and  half  a  page  more.  Terry  arrived 
and  brought  with  him  a  Mr.  Bruce,  from  Persia,  with  an  introduction, 

1  Sir  Thomas  Brisbane,  who  had  formerly  3  For  an  account  of  this  family  see  The  Swin- 
commanded  a  brigade  in  the  Peninsula.     In  tons  of  that  Ilk  and  their  Cadett,  4to,  1883,  a 
1832  he  succeeded  Sir  Walter  Scott  as  Presi-  privately  printed  volume  by  A.  C.  Swinton  of 
dent  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh.    Sir  Kimmerghame.    In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Swin- 
Thomas  had  married  in  1819  a  daughter  of  ton  in  1814,  Scott  says  that  he  had  been  read- 
Sir  Henry  Hay  Makdougall  of  Makerstoun,  ing  the  family  pedigree  "to  my  exceeding  re- 
Bart.     Sir  Thomas  died  at  Brisbane  House,  freshment." 
Ayrshire,  in  January,  I860,  in  the  eighty-sev- 
enth year  of  his  age.  3  One  of  the  Abbotsford  labourers. 


164  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

forsooth,  from  Mr.  Blackwood.  I  will  move  a  quo  rvarranto  against 
this  species  of  introduction ;  and  the  good  gentleman  is  to  be  here, 
he  informs  me,  for  two  days.  He  is  a  dark,  foreign-looking  man, 
of  small  stature,  and  rather  blunt  manners,  which  may  be  easily  ac- 
counted for  by  his  having  been  in  the  East  for  thirty  years.  He  has 
a  considerable  share  of  information,  and  made  good  play  after  dinner. 
September  6. — Walter  being  to  return  to  Ireland  for  three  weeks 
set  off  to-day,  and  has  taken  Surtees  and  Charles  with  him.  I  fear 
this  is  but  a  wild  plan,  but  the  prospect  seemed  to  make  them  so  hap- 
py that  I  could  not  find  in  my  heart  to  say  "  No  "  sufficiently  peremp- 
torily. So  away  they  all  went  this  morning  to  be  as  happy  as  they 
can.  Youth  is  a  fine  carver  and  gilder.  Went  down  to  Huntly  Burn, 
and  dawdled  about  while  waiting  for  the  carriage  to  bring  me  back. 
Mr.  Bruce  and  Colonel  Ferguson  pottered  away  about  Persia  and  In- 
dia, and  I  fell  asleep  by  Ihe  fireside.  Here  is  a  fine  spate  of  work — 
a  day  diddled  away,  and  nothing  to  show  for  it !  I  must  write  letters 
now,  there  is  nothing  else  for  it.  But — yaw — yaw — I  must  take  a  nap 
first.  I  had  a  letter  from  Jem  Ballantyne,  plague  on  him  !  full  of  re- 
monstrance, deep  and  solemn,  upon  the  carelessness  of  Bonaparte.  The 
rogue  is  right  too.  But  as  to  correcting  my  style  to  the 

"  Jemmy  jemmy  linkum  feedle  " 

tune  of  what  is  called  fine  writing,  I'll  be  d — d  if  I  do.  Drew  £12 
in  favour  of  Charles  for  his  Irish  jaunt ;  same  time  exhorted  him  to 
make  himself  as  expensive  to  Walter,  in  the  way  of  eating  and  drink- 
ing, as  he  could.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Impey  arrived  to  dinner. 

September  7. — Mr.  Bruce,  the  bastinadoed,  left  us  this  morning 
promising  wine  from  Shiraz  and  arms  from  India.  From  our  joint 
observation  he  must  be  a  half-caste,  probably  half  an  Arab.  He  told 
us  of  his  having  been  taken  by  pirates  in  the  Arabian  Gulf,  and  hav- 
ing received  two  thousand  bastinadoes  on  the  soles  of  his  feet,  after 
which  he  was  buried  in  a  heap  of  dung  by  way  of  cure.  Though  the 
matter  was  certainly  serious  enough  to  the  sufferer,  yet  it  excited  our 
suppressed,  or  scarce  suppressed,  mirth.  Alas !  let  never  traveller  tell 
any  distress  which  borders  on  the  ludicrous  if  he  desires  to  excite  the 
sympathy  of  the  audience. 

Another  thing  he  mentioned  was  the  mode  of  seasoning  timber 
for  shipbuilding  in  the  Arabian  Gulf.  They  bury  it  in  the  sand 
within  water-mark,  and  leave  it  exposed  to  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the 
tide  for  six  months  at  least,  but  often  for  twelve  or  eighteen.  The 
tendency  to  vegetation  which  produces  the  dry-rot  is  thus  prevented 
effectually,  and  the  ships  built  of  this  wood  last  for  twenty  years. 

We  drove  to  Ashestiel  in  the  morning,  after  I  had  written  a  good 
task,  or  nearly  so  (nay,  I  lie,  it  wanted  half  a  page),  and  passed  a 
pleasant  day.  Terry  read  Eobadil  in  the  evening,  which  he  has,  I 
think,  improved. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  165 

September  8. — I  have  rubbed  up,  by  collation  with  Mr.  Impey,  Sir 
Frederick  Adam's  idea  of  the  Greeks.  He  deeply  regrets  the  present 
war  as  premature,  undertaken  before  knowledge  and  rational  educa- 
tion had  extended  themselves  sufficiently.  The  neighbourhood  of  the 
Ionian  Islands  was  fast  producing  civilisation ;  and  as  knowledge  is 
power,  it  is  clear  that  the  example  of  Europeans,  and  the  opportuni- 
ties of  education  thereby  afforded,  must  soon  have  given  them  an  im- 
mense superiority  over  the  Turk.  This  premature  war  has  thrown  all 
back  into  a  state  of  barbarism.  It  was  precipitated  by  the  agents  of 
Russia.  Sir  Frederick  spoke  most  highly  of  Byron,  the  soundness  of 
his  views,  the  respect  in  which  he  was  held — his  just  ideas  of  the 
Grecian  cause  and  character,  and  the  practical  and  rational  wishes 
which  he  formed  for  them.  Singular  that  a  man  whose  conduct  in 
his  own  personal  affairs  had  been  anything  but  practical  should  be 
thus  able  to  stand  by  the  helm  of  a  sinking  state !  Sir  Frederick 
thinks  he  might  have  done  much  for  them  if  he  had  lived.  The  ran- 
tipole  friends  of  liberty,  who  go  about  freeing  nations  with  the  same 
success  which  Don  Quixote  had  in  redressing  wrongs,  have,  of  course, 
blundered  everything  which  they  touched.  The  Impeys  left  us  to-day, 
and  Captain  Hugh  Scott  and  his  lady  arrived.  Task  is  bang-up. 

September  9. — I  begin  to  fear  Nap.  will  swell  to  seven  volumes. 
I  have  a  long  letter  from  James  B.  threatening  me  with  eight;  but 
that  is  impossible.  The  event  of  his  becoming  Emperor  is  the  central 
point  of  his  history.  Now  I  have  just  attained  it,  and  it  is  the  centre 
of  the  third  volume.  Two  volumes  and  a  half  may  be  necessary  to 
complete  the  whole.  Walked  with  Hugh  Scott  up  the  Rhymer's  Glen, 
and  round  by  the  lake.  Mr.  Bainbridge  of  Gattonside  House  dined, 
also  Colonel  Ferguson.  Was  bang-up  to  my  task  again  this  day. 

September  10. — Corrected  proof-sheets  in  the  morning,  then  im- 
mured myself  to  write,  the  more  willingly  that  the  day  seemed  show- 
ery ;  but  I  found  myself  obliged  to  read  and  study  the  map  so  much 
that  I  did  not  get  over  half  a  sheet  written.  Walked  with  Hugh  Scott 
through  Haxell  Cleuch.  Great  pleasure  to  show  the  young  wood  to 
any  who  understands  them  well. 

September  11. — Jane  and  her  mother  go  into  town  this  morning, 
and  Anne  with  them,  to  look  out  a  lodging  for  us  during  the  time 
we  must  pass  in  town.  It  seems  strange  to  have  this  to  do,  having 
had  always  my  father's  house  or  my  own  to  go  to.  But — Sic  transit 
gloria  mundi. 

Well,  it  is  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  and  at  length  having  regulated 
all  disappointments  as  to  post-horses,  and  sent  three  or  four  servants 
three  or  four  miles  to  remedy  blunders,  which  a  little  forethought 
might  have  prevented,  my  family  and  guests  are  separated — 

41  Like  youthful  steers  let  loose,  east,  north,  and  south."1 
i  2  Henry  IV.  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 


166  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

Miss  Miln  goes  to  Stirling ;  the  Scotts  to  Lessudden ;  Anne  and 
Jane  to  Edinburgh ;  and  I  am  left  alone.  I  must  needs  go  up  and 
see  some  operations  about  the  spring  which  supplies  us  with  water, 
though  I  calculate  my  presence  is  not  very  necessary.  So  now — to 
work — to  work. 

But  I  reckoned  without  my  host,  or,  I  should  rather  say,  without 
my  guest.  Just  as  I  had  drawn  in  my  chair,  fitted  a  new  "  Bramah  " 
on  the  stick,  and  was  preparing  to  feague  it  away,  I  had  a  call  from 
the  son  of  an  old  friend,  Mr.  Waldie  of  Henderland.  As  he  left  me, 
enter  young  Whytbank  and  Mr.  Auriol  Hay1  of  the  Lyon  Office,  and 
we  had  a  long  armorial  chat  together,  which  lasted  for  some  time — 
then  the  library  was  to  be  looked  at,  etc.  So,  when  they  went  away, 
I  had  little  better  to  do  than  to  walk  up  to  the  spring  which  they  are 
digging,  and  to  go  to  my  solitary  dinner  on  my  return. 

September  12. — Notwithstanding  what  is  above  said,  I  made  out 
my  task  yesterday,  or  nearly  so,  by  working  after  dinner.  After  all, 
these  interruptions  are  not  such  bad  things ;  they  make  a  man  keen 
of  the  work  which  he  is  withheld  from,  and  differ  in  that  point  much 
from  the  indulgence  of  an  indisposition  to  labour  in  your  own  mind, 
which  increases  by  indulgence.  Les  f&cheux  seldom  interrupt  your 
purpose  absolutely  and  entirely — you  stick  to  it  for  contradiction's 
sake. 

Well,  I  visited  the  spring  in  the  morning,  and  completed  my  task 
afterwards.  As  I  slept  for  a  few  minutes  in  my  chair,  to  which  I  am 
more  addicted  than  I  could  wish,  I  heard,  as  I  thought,  my  poor  wife 
call  me  by  the  familiar  name  of  fondness  which  she  gave  me.  My 
recollections  on  waking  were  melancholy  enough.  These  be 

"The  airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names."9 

All,  I  believe,  have  some  natural  desire  to  consider  these  unusual  im- 
pressions as  bodements  of  good  or  evil  to  come.  But  alas  !  this  is  a 
prejudice  of  our  own  conceit.  They  are  the  empty  echoes  of  what  is 
past,  not  the  foreboding  voice  of  what  is  to  come. 

I  dined  at  the  Club  to-day  at  Selkirk,  and  acted  as  croupier. 
There  were  eighteen  dined ;  young  men  chiefly,  and  of  course  young 
talk.  But  so  it  has  been,  will  be,  and  must  be. 

September  13. — Wrote  my  task  in  the  morning,  and  thereafter 
had  a  letter  from  that  sage  Privy  Councillor  and  booby  of  a  Baron- 
et,   .  This  unutterable  idiot  proposes  to  me  that  I  shall  propose 

to  the  Dowager  Duchess  of ,  and  offers  his  own  right  honourable 

intervention  to  bring  so  beautiful  a  business  to  bear.  I  am  struck 

>  Mr.  E.  W.  Auriol  Drummond  Hay,  heir-  two  years  Secretary  to  the  Society  of  Antiqua- 

presumptive  at  one  time  of  Lord  Kinnoul,  was  ries  before  his  departure  as  Consul  General  to 

then  residing  in  Edinburgh,  owing  to  his  offl-  the  Barbary  States.    He  died  at  Tangier  on  the 

cial  duties  in  the  Lyon  Office;  he  took  a  great  1st  March,  18*5. 

interest  in  archaeological  matters,  and  was  for  >  Milton's  Comiu,  v.  208.—  J.  Q.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  167 

dumb  with  the  assurance  of  his  folly — absolutely  mute  and  speech- 
less— and  how  to  prevent  him  making  me  further  a  fool  is  not  easy, 
for  the  wretch  has  left  me  no  time  to  assure  him  of  the  absurdity  of 
what  he  proposes  ;  and  if  he  should  ever  hint  at  such  a  piece  of  d — d 
impertinence,  what  must  the  lady  think  of  my  conceit  or  of  my  feel- 
ings !  I  will  write  to  his  present  quarters,  however,  that  he  may,  if 
possible,  have  warning  not  to  continue  this  absurdity.1 

Dined  at  Major  Scott,  my  cousin's,  where  was  old  Lord  Buchan. 
He,  too,  is  a  prince  of  Bores,  but  age  has  tamed  him  a  little,  and  like 
the  giant  Pope  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  he  can  only  sit  and  grin  at 
Pilgrims  as  they  go  past,  and  is  not  able  to  cast  a  fank2  over  them  as 
formerly.  A  few  quiet  puns  seem  his  most  formidable  infliction 
nowadays. 

September  14. — I  should  not  have  forgotten,  among  the  memora- 
bilia of  yesterday,  that  Mr.  Nasmyth,  the  dentist,  and  his  family  called, 
and  I  showed  them  the  lions,  for  truly  he  that  has  rid  a  man  of  the 
toothache  is  well  entitled  to  command  a  part  of  his  time.  Item,  two 
young  Frenchmen  made  their  way  to  our  sublime  presence  in  guerdon 
of  a  laudatory  copy  of  French  verses  sent  up  the  evening  before,  by 
way  of  "  Open  Sesame,"  I  suppose.  I  have  not  read  them,  nor  shall 
I.  No  man  that  ever  wrote  a  line  despised  the  pap  of  praise  so 
heartily  as  I  do.  There  is  nothing  I  scorn  more,  except  those  who 
think  the  ordinary  sort  of  praise  or  censure  is  matter  of  the  least 
consequence.  People  have  almost  always  some  private  view  of  dis- 
tinguishing themselves,  or  of  gratifying  their  curiosity — some  point, 
in  short,  to  carry,  with  which  you  have  no  relation,  when  they  take 
the  trouble  to  praise  you.  In  general,  it  is  their  purpose  to  get  the 
person  praised  to  puff  away  in  return.  To  me  their  rank  praises  no 
more  make  amends  for  their  bad  poetry  than  tainted  butter  would 
pass  off  stale  fish. 

September  15. — Many  proofs  to  correct  and  dates  to  compare. 
What  signify  dates  in  a  true  story  ?  I  was  fidgety  after  breakfast, 
owing  to  perusing  some  advices  from  J.  Gibson,  poor  fellow.  I  will 
not  be  discouraged,  come  of  things  what  will.  However,  I  could  not 
write  continuously,  but  went  out  by  starts,  and  amused  myself  by 
cutting  trees  in  the  avenue.  Thus  I  dawdled  till  Anne  and  Jane 
came  home  with  merry  faces,  and  raised  my  spirits  of  course.  After 
tea  I  e'en  took  heart  of  grace  and  finished  my  task,  as  I  now  do  this 
day's  journal. 

September  16. — Worked  hard  to-day,  and  in  morning  and  evening 
made  out  five  pages  and  a  half,  as  much  perhaps  as  one  should  at- 
tempt, yet  I  was  not  overworked.  On  the  contrary,  went  out  with 
Tom  about  one  o'clock  and  cut  trees,  etc.,  to  clear  the  avenue  ;  and 

1  Lady  Scott  had  not  been  quite  four  months  had  never  had  any  intimacy.   This  was  not  the 

dead,  and  the  entry  of  the  preceding  day  shows  only  proposition  of  the  kind  that  reached  him 

how  extremely  ill-timed  was  this  communica-  during  his  widowhood. — j.  a.  L. 

tion  from  a  gentleman  with  whom  Sir  Walter  "  A  coil  of  rope. 


168  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

favour  the  growth  of  such  trees  as  are  designed  for  standards.  I  re- 
ceived visits  too — the  Laird  of  Bemerside,1  who  had  been  for  nine 
years  in  Italy  with  his  family — also  the  Laird  of  Kippielaw.  Anne 
and  Jane  drove  up  and  called  at  the  Haining. 

I  expected  James  Ballantyne  to  dinner  as  he  proposed,  but  the 
worthy  typographer  appeared  not.  He  is  sometimes  inaccurate  in 
keeping  such  appointments,  which  is  not  according  to  the  "Academy 
of  compliments."  But  in  the  letter  which  announced  his  intended 
visit,  he  talked  of  having  received  himself  a  visit  from  the  Cholera 
Morbus.  I  shall  be  very  sorry  if  so  unwelcome  a  guest  be  the  cause 
of  the  breach  of  his  appointment. 

September  17. — Rather  surprised  with  a  letter  from  Lord  Melville, 
informing  me  that  he  and  Mr.  Peel  had  put  me  into  the  Commission 
for  inquiring  into  the  condition  of  the  Colleges  in  Scotland.  I  know 
little  on  the  subject,  but  I  dare  say  as  much  as  some  of  the  official 
persons  who  are  inserted  of  course.  The  want  of  efficient  men  is  the 
reason  alleged.  I  must  of  course  do  my  best,  though  I  have  little 
hope  of  being  useful,  and  the  time  it  will  occupy  is  half  ruinous  to 
me,  to  whom  time  is  everything.  Besides,  I  suppose  the  honour  is 
partly  meant  as  an  act  of  grace  for  Malachi.  I  shall  never  repent  of 
that  escapade,  although  it  offended  persons  for  the  time  whose  good 
opinion  I  value.  J.  B.  continues  ill  at  Teviot  Grove,  as  they  call  it. 
I  am  a  little  anxious  about  him. 

I  finished  my  task  and  an  extra  page — hope  to  do  another  before 
supper.  Accomplished  the  said  diligent  purpose. 

September  18. — Rainy  and  gloomy — that  small  sifting  rain  driv- 
ing on  an  eastern  gale  which  intermits  not.  Wrote  letters  to  Lord 
Melville,  etc.,  and  agreed  to  act  under  the  Commission.  Settled  to  be 
at  Melville  Castle,  Saturday  24th.  I  fear  this  will  interfere  consum- 
edly  with  business.  I  corrected  proof-sheets,  and  wrote  a  good  deal, 
but  intend  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  day  in  reading  and  making  notes. 
No  bricks  to  be  made  without  straw. 

[Jedburgh,]  September  19. — Circuit.  Went  to  poor  Mr.  Short- 
reeas  and  regretted  bitterly  the  distress  of  the  family,  though  they 
endeavoured  to  bear  it  bravely,  and  to  make  my  reception  as  com- 
fortable and  even  cheerful  as  possible.  My  old  friend  R.  S.  gave  me  a 
ring  found  in  a  grave  at  the  Abbey,  to  be  kept  in  memory  of  his  son. 
I  will  certainly  preserve  it  with  especial  care.* 

Many  trifles  at  circuit,  chiefly  owing  to  the  cheap  whisky,  as  they 
were  almost  all  riots.  One  case  of  assault  on  a  deaf  and  dumb 
woman.  She  was  herself  the  chief  evidence;  but  being  totally  with- 
out education,  and  having,  from  her  situation,  very  imperfect  notions 
of  a  Deity,  and  a  future  state,  no  oath  could  be  administered.  Mr. 
Kinniburgh,  teacher  of  the  deaf  and  dumb,  was  sworn  interpreter, 

1  See  Life,  vol.  x.  95,  and  The  Haigs  ofBemer-      of  elegant  taste  and  attainments,  devotedly  at- 
syde.  8vo,  Edin.  1881.  edited  by  J.  Russell.  tached  to  Sir  Walter,  and  much  beloved  in  re- 

*  Mr.  Thomas  Shortreed,  a  young  gentleman      turn,  had  recently  died.—  i.  o.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  169 

together  with  another  person,  a  neighbour,  who  knew  the  accidental 
or  conventional  signs  which  the  poor  thing  had  invented  for  herself, 
as  Mr.  K.  was  supposed  to  understand  the  more  general  or  natural 
signs  common  to  people  in  such  a  situation.  He  went  through  the 
task  with  much  address,  and  it  was  wonderful  to  see  them  make 
themselves  intelligible  to  each  other  by  mere  pantomime.  Still  I  did 
[not]  consider  such  evidence  as  much  to  be  trusted  to  in  a  criminal 
case.  Several  previous  interviews  had  been  necessary  between  the 
interpreter  and  the  witness,  and  this  is  very  much  like  getting  up  a 
story.  Some  of  the  signs,  brief  in  themselves,  of  which  Mr.  K.  gave 
long  interpretations,  put  me  in  mind  of  Lord  Burleigh  in  the  Critic : 
"  Did  lie  mean  all  this  by  the  shake  of  the  head  ?"  "  Yes,  if  he  shook 
his  head  as  I  taught  him." '  The  man  was  found  not  guilty.  Mr.  K. 
told  us  of  a  pupil  of  his  whom  he  restored,  as  it  may  be  said,  to  hu- 
manity, and  who  told  him  that  his  ideas  of  another  world  were  that 
some  great  person  in  the  skies  lighted  up  the  sun  in  the  morning  as 
he  saw  his  mother  light  her  fire,  and  the  stars  in  the  evening  as  she 
kindled  a  lamp.  He  said  the  witness  had  ideas  of  truth  and  false- 
hood, which  was,  I  believe,  true  ;  and  that  she  had  an  idea  of  punish- 
ment in  a  future  state,  which  I  doubt.  He  confessed  she  could  not 
give  any  guess  at  its  duration,  whether  temporary  or  eternal.  I 
should  like  to  know  if  Mr.  K.  is  in  that  respect  much  wiser  than  his 
pupils.  Dined,  of  course,  with  Lord  Mackenzie,  the  Judge. 

September  20. — Waked  after  a  restless  night,  in  which  I  dreamed 
of  poor  Tom  Shortreed.  Breakfasted  with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Somerville." 
This  venerable  gentleman  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  literary  brother- 
hood— I  suppose  about  eighty-seven,  and  except  a  little  deafness  quite 
entire.  Living  all  his  life  in  good  society  as  a  gentleman  born — and 
having,  besides,  professional  calls  to  make  among  the  poor — he  must 
know,  of  course,  much  that  is  curious  concerning  the  momentous 
changes  which  have  passed  under  his  eyes.  He  talks  of  them  accord- 
ingly, and  has  written  something  on  the  subject,  but  has  scarce  the 
force  necessary  to  seize  on  the  most  striking  points,  "palabras,  neigh- 
bour Verges," 3 — gifts  which  God  gives.  The  bowl  that  rolls  easiest 
along  the  green  goes  furthest,  and  has  least  clay  sticking  to  it.  I 
have  often  noticed  that  a  kindly,  placid  good-humour  is  the  compan- 
ion of  longevity,  and,  I  suspect,  frequently  the  leading  cause  of  it. 
Quick,  keen,  sharp  observation,  with  the  power  of  contrast  and  illus- 
tration, disturbs  this  easy  current  of  thought.  My  good  friend,  the 
venerable  Doctor,  will  not,  I  think,  die  of  that  disease. 

Called  at  Nesbit  Mill  on  my  cousin  Charles.  His  wife  received 
me  better  than  I  deserved,  for  I  have  been  a  sad  neglectful  visitor. 
She  has  a  very  pleasant  countenance. 

i  See  Act  in.  Sc.  1.  tieth  year  of  his  age,  and  sixty-fourth  of  his 

a  The  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Somerville,  minister  ministry.— j.  G.  L.     Autobiographical  ifemori- 

of  Jedburgh,  author  of  the  History  of  Great  als  of  his  Life  and  Times,  1741-1814,  8vo,  Edin- 

Britain  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  and  burgh,  were  published  in  1861. 

other  works,  died  14th  May,  1830,  in  the  nine-  3  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  HI.  Sc.  5. 


170  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

Some  of  the  Circuit  lawyers  dined  here,  namely  R.  Dundas,  Borth- 
wick,  the  facetious  Peter  Robertson,1  Mr.  R.  Adam  Dundas,  and  with 
them  Henry  Scott  of  Harden. 

September  21. — Our  party  breakfasted  late,  and  I  was  heavy- 
headed,  and  did  not  rise  till  eight.  Had  drank  a  little  more  wine 
than  usual,  but  as  our  friend  Othello  says,  "  that's  not  much."  *  How- 
ever, we  dawdled  about  till  near  noon  ere  all  my  guests  left  me. 
Then  I  walked  a  little  and  cut  some  wood.  Read  afterwards.  I  can't 
get  on  without  it.  How  did  I  get  on  before  ? — that's  a  secret.  Mr. 
Thomas  Tod8  and  his  wife  came  to  dine.  We  talked  of  old  stories 
and  got  over  a  pleasant  evening. 

September  22. — Still  no  writing.  We  have  materials  to  collect. 
D — n  you,  Mother  Duty,  hold  your  tongue !  I  tell  you,  you  know 
nothing  of  the  matter.  Besides,  I  corrected  five  sheets.  I  wish  you 
had  to  do  with  some  other  people,  just  to  teach  you  the  difference. 
I  grant  that  the  day  being  exquisite  I  went  and  thinned  out  the 
wood  from  the  north  front  of  the  house.  Read  and  noted  a  great 
deal. 

September  23. — Wrought  in  the  morning,  but  only  at  reading  and 
proofs.  That  cursed  battle  of  Jena  is  like  to  cost  me  more  time  than 
it  did  Bonaparte  to  gain  it.  I  met  Colonel  Ferguson  about  one,  to 
see  his  dogs  run.  It  is  a  sport  I  have  loved  well,  but  now,  I  know 
not  why,  I  find  it  little  interesting.  To  be  sure  I  used  to  gallop,  and 
that  1  cannot  now  do.  We  had  good  sport,  however,  and  killed  five 
hares.  I  felt  excited  during  the  chase,  but  the  feeling  was  but  mo- 
mentary. My  mind  was  immediately  turned  to  other  remembrances, 
and  to  pondering  upon  the  change  which  had  taken  place  in  my  own 
feelings.  The  day  was  positively  heavenly,  and  the  wild  hillside,  with 
our  little  coursing  party,  was  beautiful  to  look  at.  Yet  I  felt  like  a 
man  come  from  the  dead,  looking  with  indifference  on  that  which  in- 
terested him  while  living.  So  it  must  be 

"  When  once  life's  day  is  near  the  gloaming."4 

We  dined  at  Huntly  Burn.     Kind  and  comfortable  as  usual. 

September  24. — I  made  a  rally  to-day  and  wrote  four  pages,  or 
nearly.  Never  stirred  abroad  the  whole  day,  but  was  made  happy  after 
dinner  by  the  return  of  Charles  and  Surtees  full  of  their  Irish  jaunt, 
and  happy  as  young  men  are  with  the  change  of  scene.  To-morrow 
I  must  go  to  Melville  Castle.  I  wonder  what  I  can  do  or  say  about 
these  Universities.  One  thing  occurs — the  distribution  of  bursaries 
only  ex  meritis.  That  is,  I  would  have  the  presentations  continue  in 

»  Afterwards  Judge  in  the  Court  of  Session  Lord  Robertson  died  in  1855. 

from  1843,  author  of  Gleams  of  Thought  reflect-  .               „    o 
edfrom  Milton,  etc.     It  was  of  this  witty  and 

humorous  judge  Mr.  Lockhart  wrote  the  sport-  3  One  of  Scott's  old  High  School  mates.— 

ive  lines:-  Life,  vol.  \.  p.  1&3. 

"  Here  lies  that  peerlet*  paper  peer  Lord  Peter, 
Who  broke  the  l»wi  of  God  »nd  mac  and  metre."  4  Burns'S  Epistle  to  J.  Smith. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  171 

the  present  patrons,  but  exact  that  those  presented  should  be  quali- 
fied by  success  in  their  literary  attainments  and  distinction  acquired 
at  school  to  hold  these  scholarships.  This  seems  to  be  following  out 
the  idea  of  the  founders,  who,  doubtless,  intended  the  furthering  of 
good  literature.  To  give  education  to  dull  mediocrity  is  a  fling- 
ing of  the  children's  bread  to  dogs — it  is  sharpening  a  hatchet  on  a 
razor-strop,  which  renders  the  strop  useless,  and  does  no  good  to  the 
hatchet.  Well,  something  we  will  do. 

September  25. — Morning  spent  in  making  up  proofs  and  copy. 
Set  out  for  Melville  Castle  with  Jane,  who  goes  on  to  her  mother  at 
Edinburgh. 

Found  Lord  and  Lady  M.  in  great  distress.  Their  son  Robert  is 
taken  ill  at  a  Russian  town  about  350  miles  from  Moscow — danger- 
ously ill.  The  distance  increases  the  extreme  distress  of  the  parents, 
who,  however,  bore  it  like  themselves.  I  was  glad  to  spend  a  day 
upon  the  old  terms  with  such  old  friends,  and  believe  my  being  with 
them,  even  in  this  moment  of  painful  suspense,  as  it  did  not  dimin- 
ish the  kindness  of  my  reception,  certainly  rather  seemed  to  divert 
them  from  the  cruel  subject. 

Dr.  Nicoll,  Principal  of  St.  Andrews,  dined — a  very  gentlemanlike 
sensible  man.  We  spoke  of  the  visitation,  of  granting  degrees,  of 
public  examinations,  of  abolishing  the  election  of  professors  by 
the  Senatus  Academicus  (a  most  pregnant  source  of  jobs),  and 
much  beside — but  all  desultory — and  Lord  M.  had  either  nothing 
particular  to  say  to  me,  or  was  too  much  engrossed  with  his  family 
distress  to  enter  upon  it.  He  proposes  to  be  here  in  the  end  of 
October. 

September  26. — Returned  to  Abbotsford  after  breakfast.  Here  is 
a  cool  thing  of  my  friend  J.  W.  C[roker].  The  Duke  of  Clarence, 
dining  at  the  Pavilion  with  the  King,  happened  by  choice  or  circum- 
stance to  sit  lower  than  usual  at  the  table,  and  being  at  that  time  on 
bad  terms  with  the  Board  of  Admiralty,  took  an  opportunity  to  say, 
that  were  he  king  he  would  do  all  that  away,  and  assume  the  office  of 
Lord  High  Admiral.  "  Your  R.H.  may  act  with  great  prudence," 
said  C[roker].  "  The  last  monarch  who  did  so  was  James  u."  Pres- 
ently after  H.M.  asked  what  they  were  talking  of.  "  It's  only  his 
R.H.  of  C.,"  answered  C[roker],  "  who  is  so  condescending  as  to  tell 
us  what  he  will  do  when  he  is  king." 

A  long  letter  from  R.  P.  Gillies.  I  wonder  how  even  he  could 
ask  me  to  announce  myself  as  the  author  of  Annotations  on  German 
Novels  which  he  is  to  write. 

September  27. — A  day  of  honest  labour — but  having  much  to  read, 
proofs  to  send  off,  etc.,  I  was  only  able  to  execute  my  task  by  three 
o'clock  P.M.  Then  I  went  to  direct  the  cutting  of  wood  along  the 
road  in  front  of  the  house.  Dined  at  Chiefswood  with  Captain  and 
Mrs.  Hamilton,  Lady  Lucy  Whitmore,  their  guest,  and  neighbours 
from  Gattonside  and  Huntly  Burn. 


172  JOURNAL  [SEPT.,  1826. 

September  28. — Another  hard  brush,  and  finished  four  pages  by 
twelve  o'clock,  then  drove  out  to  Cowdenknowes,  for  a  morning  visit. 
The  house  is  ancient  and  curious,  though  modernised  by  vile  improve- 
ments of  a  modern  roof  and  windows.  The  inhabited  part  has  over 
the  principal  door  the  letters  S.  I.  II.  V.  I.  H.  The  first  three  indicate 
probably  Sir  John  Hume,  but  what  are  we  to  make  of  the  rest?  I 
will  look  at  them  more  needfully  one  day.  There  is  a  large  room 
said  to  have  been  built  for  the  reception  of  Queen  Mary ;  if  so,  it  has 
been  much  modernised.  The  date  on  the  door  is  157G,  which  would 
[not]  bear  out  the  tradition.  The  last  two  letters  probably  signify 
Lady  Hume's  name,  but  what  are  we  to  make  of  the  V\  Dr.  Hume 
thinks  it  means  Uxor,  but  why  should  that  word  be  in  Latin  and  the 
rest  in  Scotch  ? 

Returned  to  dinner,  corrected  proofs,  and  hope  still  to  finish  an- 
other leaf,  being  in  light  working  humour.  Finished  the  same  ac- 
cordingly. 

[Abbotsford,]  September  29. — A  sort  of  zeal  of  working  has  seized 
me,  which  I  must  avail  myself  of.  No  dejection  of  mind,  and  no 
tremor  of  nerves,  for  which  God  be  humbly  thanked.  My  spirits  are 
neither  low  nor  high — grave,  I  think,  and  quiet — a  complete  twilight 
of  the  mind. 

Good  news  of  John  Lockhart  from  Lady  Montagu,  who  most  kind- 
ly wrote  on  that  interesting  topic. 

I  wrote  five  pages,  nearly  a  double  task,  yet  wandered  for  three 
hours,  axe  in  hand,  superintending  the  thinning  of  the  home  plant- 
ing. That  does  good  too.  I  feel  it  give  steadiness  to  my  mind. 
Women,  it  is  said,  go  mad  much  seldomer  than  men.  I  fancy,  if  this 
be  true,  it  is  in  some  degree  owing  to  the  little  manual  works  in  which 
they  are  constantly  employed,  which  regulate  in  some  degree  the  cur- 
rent of  ideas,  as  the  pendulum  regulates  the  motion  of  the  timepiece. 
I  do  not  know  if  this  is  sense  or  nonsense,  but  I  am  sensible  that  if 
I  were  in  solitary  confinement,  without  either  the  power  of  taking  ex- 
ercise or  employing  myself  in  study,  six  months  would  make  me  a 
madman  or  an  idiot. 

September  30. — Wrote  four  pages.  Honest  James  Ballantyne 
came  about  five.  I  had  been  cutting  wood  for  two  hours.  He 
brought  his  child,  a  remarkably  fine  boy,  well-bfed,  quiet,  and  amia- 
ble. James  and  I  had  a  good  comfortable  chat,  the  boys  being  at 
Gattonside  House.  I  am  glad  to  see  him  bear  up  against  misfortune 
like  a  man.  "  Bread  we  shall  eat,  or  white  or  brown,"  that's  the 
moral  of  it,  Master  Muggins. 


OCTOBER 

October  1. — Wrote  my  task,  then  walked  from  one  till  half-past 
four.  Dogs  took  a  hare.  They  always  catch  one  on  Sunday — a  Puri- 
tan would  say  the  devil  was  in  them.  I  think  I  shall  get  more  done 
this  evening.  I  would  fain  conclude  the  volume  at  the  Treaty  of 
Tilsit,  which  will  make  it  a  pretty  long  one,  by  the  by.  J.  B.  ex- 
pressed himself  much  pleased  with  Nap,,  which  gives  me  much  cour- 
age. He  is  gloomy  enough  when  things  are  not  well.  And  then  I 
will  try  something  at  my  Canongate.  They  talk  about  the  pitcher  go- 
ing to  the  well ;  but  if  it  goes  not  to  the  well,  how  shall  we  get  water  ? 
It  will  bring  home  none  when  it  stands  on  the  shelf,  I  trow.  In  lit- 
erature, as  in  love,  courage  is  half  the  battle. 

"The  public  bora  to  be  controlled 
Stoops  to  the  forward  and  the  bold." 

October  2. — Wrote  my  task.  Went  out  at  one  and  wrought  in 
the  wood  till  four.  I  was  made  happy  by  a  letter  from  my  nephew, 
little  Walter,  as  we  used  to  call  him,  from  his  age  and  size,  compared 
to  those  of  his  cousin.  He  has  been  kindly  received  at  Bombay  by 
the  Governor  Mountstuart  Elphinstone,  and  by  Sir  Thomas  Bradford. 
He  is  taking  his  ground,  I  think,  prudently,  and  is  likely  to  get  on. 
Already  first  Lieutenant  of  Engineers — that  is  well  to  begin  with. 

Colonel  Ferguson,  Miss  Margaret,  and  some  ladies,  friends  of 
theirs,  dine,  also  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Laidlaw,  and  James  Laidlaw,  and  young 
Mr.  N.  Milne. 

October  3. — I  wrote  my  task  as  usual,  but,  strange  to  tell,  there  is 
a  want  of  paper.  I  expect  some  to-day.  In  the  meantime,  to  avoid 
all  quarrel  with  Dame  Duty,  I  cut  up  some  other  leaves  into  the  usual 
statutory  size.  They  say  of  a  fowl  that  if  you  draw  a  chalk  line  on 
a  table,  and  lay  chick-a-diddle  down  with  his  bill  upon  it,  the  poor 
thing  will  imagine  himself  opposed  by  an  insurmountable  barrier, 
which  he  will  not  attempt  to  cross.  Suchlike  are  one-half  of  the  ob- 
stacles which  serve  to  interrupt  our  best  resolves,  and  such  is  my  pre- 
tended want  of  paper.  It  is  like  Sterne's  want  of  sous  when  he  went 
to  relieve  the  Pauvre  Honteux. 

October  4. — I  ought  to  record  with  gratitude  to  God  Almighty  the 
continued  health  of  body  and  mind,  which  He  hath  vouchsafed  to  grant 
me.  I  have  had  of  late  no  accesses  either  of  bile  or  of  nervous  affec- 
tion, and  by  mixing  exercise  with  literary  labour,  I  have  escaped  the 
tremor  cordis  which  on  other  occasions  has  annoyed  me  cruelly.  I 


174  JOURNAL  [Oci. 

went  to  the  inspection  of  the  Selkirkshire  Yeomanry,  by  Col.  Thorn- 
hill,  7th  Hussars.  The  Colonel  is  a  remarkably  fine-looking  man,  and 
has  a  good  address.  His  brow  bears  tokens  of  the  fatigues  of  war. 
He  is  a  great  falconer,  and  has  promised  to  fly  his  hawks  on  Friday 
for  my  amusement,  and  to  spend  the  day  at  Abbotsford.  The  young 
Duke  of  B.  was  on  the  field  looking  at  the  corps,  most  of  whom  are 
his  tenants.  They  did  very  well,  and  are  fine,  smart  young  men,  and 
well  mounted.  Too  few  of  them  though,  which  is  a  pity.  The  ex- 
ercise is  a  work  which  in  my  time  I  have  loved  well. 

Finished  my  task  at  night. 

October  5. — I  was  thinking  this  morning  that  my  time  glided 
away  in  a  singularly  monotonous  manner,  like  one  of  those  dark  grey 
days  which  neither  promise  sunshine  nor  threaten  rain  ;  too  melan- 
choly for  enjoyment,  too  tranquil  for  repining.  But  this  day  has 
brought  a  change  which  somewhat  shakes  my  philosophy.  I  find  by 
a  letter  from  J.  Gibson  that  I  may  go  to  London  without  danger,  and 
if  I  may,  I  in  a  manner  must,  to  examine  the  papers  in  the  Secretary  of 
State's  office  about  Bon.  when  at  Saint  Helena.  The  opportunity  having 
been  offered  must  be  accepted,  and  yet  I  had  much  rather  stay  at  home. 
Even  the  prospect  of  seeing  Sophia  and  Lockhart  must  be  mingled 
with  pain,  yet  this  is  foolish  too.  Lady  Hamilton1  writes  me  that  Pozzo 
di  Borgo,9  the  Russian  Minister  at  Paris,  is  willing  to  communicate 
to  me  some  particulars  of  Bonaparte's  early  life.  Query — might  I 
not  go  on  there  ?  In  for  a  penny,  in  for  a  pound.  I  intend  to  take 
Anne  with  me,  and  the  pleasure  will  be  great  to  her,  who  deserves 
much  at  my  hand. 

October  6. — Charles  and  his  friend  Surtees  left  us  this  morning. 

Went  to  see  Colonel  Thornhill's  hawks  fly.  Some  part  of  the 
amusement  is  very  beautiful,  particularly  the  first  flight  of  the  hawks, 
when  they  sweep  so  beautifully  round  the  company,  jingling  their 
bells  from  time  to  time,  and  throwing  themselves  into  the  most 
elegant  positions  as  they  gaze  about  for  their  prey.  But  I  do  not 
wonder  that  the  impatience  of  modern  times  has  renounced  this  ex- 
pensive and  precarious  mode  of  sporting.  The  hawks  are  liable  to 
various  misfortunes,  and  are  besides  addicted  to  fly  away ;  one  of  ours 
was  fairly  lost  for  the  day,  and  one  or  two  went  off  without  permis- 
sion, but  returned.  We  killed  a  crow  and  frightened  a  snipe.  There 
are,  however,  ladies  and  gentlemen  enough  to  make  a  gallant  show  on 
the  top  of  Mintlaw  Kipps.  The  falconer  made  a  fine  figure — a  hand- 
some and  active  young  fellow  with  the  falcon  on  his  wrist.  The 
Colonel  was  most  courteous,  and  named  a  hawk  after  me,  which  was 
a  compliment.  The  hawks  are  not  named  till  they  have  merited  that 
distinction.  I  walked  about  six  miles  and  was  not  fatigued. 

There  dined  with  us  Colonel  Thornhill,  Clifton,  young  Whytbank, 

1  Eldest  daughter  of  the  illustrious  Admiral  3  This  implacable  enemy  of  Napoleon, — a 
Lord  Duncan,  wife  of  Sir  Hew  Hamilton  Dal-  Corsican,  died  in  his  seventy-fourth  year  in 
rymple.  She  died  in  1852.  1842. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  175 

Spencer  Stanhope,  and  his  brother,  with  Miss  Tod  and  ray  old  friend 
Locker,1  Secretary  to  Greenwich  Hospital.  We  did  not  break  up 
the  party  till  one  in  the  morning,  and  were  very  well  amused. 

October  1. — A  weary  day  of  rain.  Locker  and  I  chatted  from 
time  to  time,  and  I  wrought  not  at  Honey,  but  upon  the  prose  works, 
of  which  I  will  have  a  volume  ready  to  send  in  on  Monday.  I  got  a 
letter  from  John  Gibson,  with  an  offer  by  Longman  for  Napoleon  of 
ten  thousand  five  hundred  guineas,3  which  I  have  advised  them  to 
accept.  Also  I  hear  there  is  some  doubt  of  my  getting  to  London, 
from  the  indecision  of  these  foolish  Londoners. 

I  don't  care  whether  I  go  or  no !  And  yet  it  is  unpleasant  to  see 
how  one's  motions  depend  on  scoundrels  like  these.  Besides,  I  would 
like  to  be  there,  were  it  but  to  see  how  the  cat  jumps.  One  knows 
nothing  of  the  world,  if  you  are  absent  from  it  so  long  as  I  have 
been. 

October  8. — Locker  left  me  this  morning.  He  is  of  opinion  the 
ministry  must  soon  assume  another  form,  but  that  the  Whigs  will  not 
come  in.  Lord  Liverpool  holds  much  by  Lord  Melville — well  in  point 
of  judgment — and  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington — still  better,  but  then 
the  Duke  is  a  soldier — a  bad  education  for  a  statesman  in  a  free 
country.  The  Chancellor  is  also  consulted  by  the  Premier  on  all  law 
affairs.  Canning  and  Huskisson  are  at  the  head  of  the  other  party, 
who  may  be  said  to  have  taken  the  Cabinet  by  storm,  through  sheer 
dint  of  talent.  I  should  like  to  see  how  these  ingredients  are  work- 
ing ;  but  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  will  take  care  of  putting  my  finger 
into  the  cleft  stick. 

Locker  has  promised  to  get  my  young  cousin  Walter  Scott  on 
some  quarter-deck  or  other. 

Received  from  Mr.  Cadell  the  second  instalment  advance  of  cash 
on  Canongate.  It  is  in  English  bills  and  money,  in  case  of  my  going 
to  town. 

October  9. — A  gracious  letter  from  Messrs.  Abud  and  Son,  bill- 
brokers,  etc. ;  assure  Mr.  Gibson  that  they  will  institute  no  legal  pro- 
ceedings against  me  for  four  or  five  weeks.  And  so  I  am  permitted 
to  spend  my  money  and  my  leisure  to  improve  the  means  of  paying 
them  their  debts,  for  that  is  the  only  use  of  my  present  journey.  They 
are  Jews :  I  suppose  the  devil  baits  for  Jews  with  a  pork  griskin. 
Were  I  not  to  exert  myself,  I  wonder  where  their  money  is  to  come 
from. 

A  letter  from  Gillies  menacing  the  world  with  a  foreign  miscel- 

1  E.  H.  Locker,  Esq.,  then  Secretary,  after-  guine  as  to  the  success  of  the  Memoirs  of  Ifa- 

wards  one  of  the  Commissioners  of  Greenwich  poleon  that  I  did  not  hesitate  to  express  it  as 

Hospital— an  old  and  dear  friend  of  Scott's. —  my  opinion  that  I  had  much  confidence  in  it 

See  Oct.  25.  producing  him  at  least  £10,000,  and  this  I  ob- 
served, as  my  expectation,  to  Sir  W.  Scott." 

a  As  an  illustration  of  Constable's  accuracy  This  opinion  was  expressed  not  only  before  the 

in  gauging  the  value  of  literary  property,  it  sale  of  the  work,  but  before  it  was  all  written. — 

may  be  stated  that  in  his  formal  declaration,  A.  Constable  and  his  Correspondents,  vol.  lit 

after  sequestration,  he  said:— "I  was  so  san-  p.  313. 


176  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

lany.  The  plan  is  a  good  one,  but  "  he  canna  haud  it,"  as  John 
Moodie1  says.  He  will  think  all  is  done  when  he  has  got  a  set  of 
names,  and  he  will  find  the  difficulty  consists  not  in  that,  but  in  get- 
ting articles.  I  wrote  on  the  prose  works. 

Lord  and  Lady  Minto  dined  and  spent  the  night  at  Abbotsford. 

October  10. — Well,  I  must  prepare  for  going  to  London,  and  per- 
haps to  Paris.  The  morning  frittered  away.  I  slept  till  eight 
o'clock,  then  our  guests  till  twelve  ;  then  walked  out  to  direct  some 
alterations  on  the  quarry,  which  I  think  may  at  little  expense  be  ren- 
dered a  pretty  recess.  Wordsworth  swears  by  an  old  quarry,  and  is 
in  some  degree  a  supreme  authority  on  such  points.  Rain  came  on ; 
returned  completely  wet.  I  had  next  the  displeasure  to  find  that  I 
had  lost  the  conclusion  of  vol.  v.  of  Napoleon,  seven  or  eight  pages 
at  least,  which  I  shall  have  to  write  over  again,  unless  I  can  find  it. 
Well,  as  Othello  says,  "  that's  not  much."  My  cousin  James  Scott 
came  to  dinner. 

I  have  great  unwillingness  to  set  out  on  this  journey ;  I  almost 
think  it  ominous ;  but 

"  They  that  look  to  freits,  my  master  dear, 
Their  freits  will  follow  them."2 

I  will  stick  to  my  purpose.  Answered  a  letter  from  Gillies  about 
establishing  a  foreign  journal ;  a  good  plan,  but  I  fear  in  sorry  hands. 
Of  those  he  names  as  his  assistants  they  who  can  be  useful  will  do 
little,  and  the  labours  of  those  who  are  willing  to  work  will  rather 
hold  the  publication  down.  I  fear  it  will  not  do. 

I  am  downhearted  about  leaving  all  my  things,  after  I  was  quietly 
settled ;  it  is  a  kind  of  disrooting  that  recalls  a  thousand  painful  ideas 
of  former  happier  journeys.  And  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  these  fel- 
lows !  God  help — but  rather  God  bless — man  must  help  himself. 

October  11. — We  are  ingenious  self  -  tormentors.  This  journey 
annoys  me  more  than  anything  of  the  kind  in  my  life.  My  wife's 
figure  seems  to  stand  before  me,  and  her  voice  is  in  my  ears — "  Scott, 
do  not  go."  It  half  frightens  me.  Strong  throbbing  at  my, heart, 
and  a  disposition  to  be  very  sick.  It  is  just  the  effect  of  so  many 
feelings  which  had  been  lulled  asleep  by  the  uniformity  of  my  life, 
but  which  awaken  on  any  new  subject  of  agitation.  Poor,  poor  Char- 
lotte ! !  I  cannot  daub  it  further.  I  get  incapable  of  arranging  my 
papers  too.  I  will  go  out  for  half-an-hour.  God  relieve  me  ! 

I  quelled  this  hysterica  passio  by  pushing  a  walk  towards  Kaeside 
and  back  again,  but  when  I  returned  I  still  felt  uncomfortable,  and 
all  the  papers  I  wanted  were  out  of  the  way,  and  all  those  I  did  not 
want  seemed  to  place  themselves  under  my  fingers ;  my  cash,  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  riches  in  general,  made  to  itself  wings  and  fled, 
I  verily  believe  from  one  hiding-place  to  another.  To  appease  this 

»  Another  of  the  Abbotsford  labourers.  s  See  Ballad  of  Edon  of  Gordon. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  177 

insurrection  of  the  papers,  I  gave  up  putting  my  things  in  order  till 
to-morrow  morning. 

Dined  at  Kippielaw  with  a  party  of  neighbours.  They  had  cigars 
for  me,  very  politely.  But  I  must  break  folks  off  this.  I  would 
[not]  willingly  be  like  old  Dr.  Parr,  or  any  such  quiz,  who  has  his 
tastes  and  whims,  forsooth,  that  must  be  gratified.  So  no  cigars  on 
the  journey. 

October  12.1 — Reduced  my  rebellious  papers  to  order.  Set  out 
after  breakfast,  and  reached  Carlisle  at  eight  o'clock  at  night. 

Rokeby  Park,  October  13. — We  were  off  before  seven,  and  visit- 
ing Appleby  Castle  by  the  way  (a  most  interesting  and  curious 
place),  we  got  to  MorrittV  about  half-past  four,  where  we  had  as 
warm  a  welcome  as  one  of  the  warmest  hearts  in  the  world  could 
give  an  old  friend.  I  saw  his  nephew's  wife  for  the  first  time,  a 
very  pleasing  young  person.  It  was  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see 
Morritt  happy  in  the  midst  of  his  family  circle,  undisturbed,  as  here- 
tofore, by  the  sickness  of  any  dear  to  him. 

On  recalling  my  own  recollections  during  my  journey  I  may  note 
that  I  found  great  pleasure  in  my  companion's  conversation,  as  well 
as  in  her  mode  of  managing  all  her  little  concerns  on  the  road.  I 
am  apt  to  judge  of  character  by  good-humour  and  alacrity  in  these 
petty  concerns.  I  think  the  inconveniences  of  a  journey  seem  great- 
er to  me  than  formerly ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  pleasures  it 
affords  are  rather  less.  The  ascent  of  Stainmore  seemed  duller  and 
longer  than  usual,  and  Bowes,  which  used  to  strike  me  as  a  distin- 
guished feature,  seemed  an  ill-formed  mass  of  rubbish,  a  great  deal 
lower  than  I  had  supposed  ;  yet  I  have  seen  it  twenty  times  at  least. 
On  the  other  hand,  what  I  lose  in  my  own  personal  feelings  I  gain 
in  those  of  my  companion,  who  shows  an  intelligent  curiosity  and  in- 
terest in  what  she  sees.  I  enjoy  therefore,  reflectively,  veluti  in 
specnlo,  the  sort  of  pleasure  to  which  I  am  now  less  accessible. 

October  14. — Strolled  about  in  the  morning  with  Morritt,  and  saw 

i  "On  the  12th  of  October,  Sir  Walter  left  ful  sympathy  with  which  his  misfortunes,  and 
Abbotsford  for  London,  where  he  had  been  gallant  behaviour  under  them,  had  been  re- 
promised  access  to  the  papers  in  the  Govern-  garded  by  all  classes  of  men  at  home  and 
ment  offices;  and  thence  he  proceeded  to  Paris,  abroad,  was  brought  home  to  his  perception 
in  the  hope  of  gathering  from  various  eminent  in  a  way  not  to  be  mistaken.  He  was  cheered 
persons  authentic  anecdotes  concerning  Napo-  and  gratified,  and  returned  to  Scotland  with 
leon.  His  Diary  shows  that  he  was  successful  renewed  hope  and  courage  for  the  prosecution 
in  obtaining  many  valuable  materials  for  the  of  his  marvellous  course  of  industry." — Life, 
completion  of  his  historical  work;  and  reflects,  vol.  ix.  pp.  2,  3. 

with  sufficient  distinctness,  the  very  brilliant  2  John  B.  Saurey  Morritt  of  Rokeby,  a  friend 

reception  he  on  this  occasion  experienced  both  of  twenty  years'  standing,  and  "one  of  the 

in  London  and  Paris.    The  range  of  his  society  most   accomplished    men    that   ever   shared 

is  strikingly  (and  unconsciously)  exemplified  Scott's  confidence." 

in  the  record  of  one  day,  when  we  find  him  He  had  published,  before  making  Scott's  ac. 

breakfasting  at  the  Royal  Lodge  in  Windsor  quaintance,  a  Vindication  of  Homer,  in  1798,  a 

Park,  and  supping  on  oysters  and  porter  in  treatise  on  The  Topography  of  Troy,  1800,  and 

'honest  Dan  Terry's  house,  like  a  squirrel's  translations  and  imitations  of  the  minor  Greek 

cage,'  above  the  Adelphi  Theatre  in  the  Strand.  Poets  in  1802. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  expedition  was  Mr.  Morritt  survived  his  friend  till  February 

in  many  ways  serviceable  in  his  Life  of  Napo-  12th,  1843,  when  he  died  at  Rokeby  Park,  York  - 

leon;  and  I  think  as  little  that  it  was  chiefly  so  shire,  in  his  seventy-second  year.  — See  Life 

by  renewing  his  spirits.    The  deep  and  respect-  throughout. 

12 


1V8  JOURNAL  [OCT. 

his  new  walk  up  the  Tees,  which  he  is  just  concocting.  Got  a  pam- 
phlet he  has  written  on  the  Catholic  Question.  In  1806  he  had  other 
views  on  that  subject,  but  "  live  and  learn  "  as  they  say.  One  of  his 
squibs  against  Fox  and  Grenville's  Administration  concludes — 

"  Though  they  sleep  with  the  devil,  yet  theirs  is  the  hope, 
On  the  scum  of  old  England,  to  rise  with  the  Pope." 

Set  off  at  two,  and  reached  Wetherby  to  supper  and  bed. 

It  was  the  Corporation  of  Leeds  that  by  a  subscription  of  £80,000 
brought  in  the  anti-Catholic  candidate.  I  remember  their  subscrib- 
ing a  similar  sum  to  bring  in  Morritt,  if  he  would  have  stood. 

Saw  in  Morritt's  possession  an  original  miniature  of  Milton  by 
Cooper — a  valuable  thing  indeed.  The  pedigree  seemed  authentic. 
It  was  painted  for  his  favourite  daughter — had  come  into  possession 
of  some  of  the  Davenants — was  then  in  the  Devonshire  collection 
from  which  it  was  stolen.  Afterwards  purchased  by  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds, and  at  his  sale  by  Morritt  or  his  father.1  The  countenance 
handsome  and  dignified,  with  a  strong  expression  of  genius,  probably 
the  only  portrait  of  Milton  taken  from  the  life  excepting  the  drawing 
from  which  Faithorne's  head  is  done. 

[Grantham,]  October  15. — Old  England  is  no  changeling.  It  is 
long  since  I  travelled  this  road,  having  come  up  to  town  chiefly  by 
sea  of  late  years,  but  things  seem  much  the  same.  One  race  of  red- 
nosed  innkeepers  are  gone,  and  their  widows,  eldest  sons,  or  head- 
waiters  exercise  hospitality  in  their  room  with  the  same  bustle  and 
importance.  Other  things  seem,  externally  at  least,  much  the  same. 
The  land,  however,  is  much  better  ploughed ;  straight  ridges  every- 
where adopted  in  place  of  the  old  circumflex  of  twenty  years  ago. 
Three  horses,  however,  or  even  four,  are  often  seen  in  a  plough  yoked 
one  before  the  other.  Ill  habits  do  not  go  out  at  once.  We  slept  at 
Grantham,  where  we  met  with  Captain  William  Lockhart  and  his  lady, 
bound  for  London  like  ourselves. 

[Biggleswade^\  October  16. — Visited  Burleigh  this  morning;  the 
first  time  I  ever  saw  that  grand  place,  where  there  are  so  many  ob- 
jects of  interest  and  curiosity.  The  house  is  magnificent,  in  the  style 
of  James  i.'s  reign,  and  consequently  in  mixed  Gothic.  Of  paintings 
I  know  nothing ;  so  shall  attempt  to  say  nothing.  But  whether  to 
connoisseurs,  or  to  an  ignorant  admirer  like  myself,  the  Salvator 
Mundi,  by  Carlo  Dolci,  must  seem  worth  a  King's  ransom.  Lady 
Exeter,  who  was  at  home,  had  the  goodness  or  curiosity  to  wish  to 
see  us.  She  is  a  beauty  after  my  own  heart ;  a  great  deal  of  liveli- 
ness in  the  face ;  an  absence  alike  of  form  and  of  affected  ease,  and 
really  courteous  after  a  genuine  and  ladylike  fashion. 

We  reached  Biggleswade  to-night  at  six,  and  paused  here  to  wait 
for  the  Lockharts.  Spent  the  evening  together. 

1  MS.  note  on  margin  of  Journal  by  Mr.  Mor-      by  Mason  to  Burgh,  and  given  to  me  by  Mr. 
ritt:  "No — it  was  left  by  Reynolds  to  Mason,      Burgh's  widow." 


1826.]  JOURNAL  179 

[Pall  Mall,]  October  17. — Here  am  I  in  this  capital  once  more, 
after  an  April-weather  meeting  with  my  daughter  and  Lockhart.  Too 
much  grief  in  our  first  meeting  to  be  joyful ;  too  much  pleasure  to 
be  distressing — a  giddy  sensation  between  the  painful  and  the  pleas- 
urable. I  will  call  another  subject. 

Read  over  Sir  John  Ckiverton1  and  Brambletye  House* — novels 
in  what  I  may  surely  claim  as  the  style 

"Which  I  was  born  to  introduce — 
Refined  it  first,  and  show'd  its  use." 

They  are  both  clever  books  ;  one  in  imitation  of  the  days  of  chivalry  ; 
the  other  (by  Horace  Smith,  one  of  the  authors  of  the  Rejected  Ad- 
dresses) dated  in  the  time  of  the  Civil  Wars,  and  introducing  histori- 
cal characters.  I  read  both  with  great  interest  during  the  journey. 

I  am  something  like  Captain  Bobadil'  who  trained  up  a  hundred 
gentlemen  to  fight  very  nearly,  if  not  altogether,  as  well  as  myself. 
And  so  far  I  am  convinced  of  this,  that  I  believe  were  I  to  publish 
the  Canongate  Chronicles  without  my  name  (nom  de  guerre,  I  mean) 
the  event  would  be  a  corollary  to  the  fable  of  the  peasant  who  made 
the  real  pig  squeak  against  the  imitator,  while  the  sapient  audience 
hissed  the  poor  grunter  as  if  inferior  to  the  biped  in  his  own  lan- 
guage. The  peasant  could,  indeed,  confute  the  long-eared  multitude 
by  showing  piggy ;  but  were  I  to  fail  as  a  knight  with  a  white  and 
maiden  shield,  and  then  vindicate  my  claim  to  attention  by  putting 
"  By  the  Author  of  Waverley "  in  the  title,  my  good  friend  Publi- 
cum  would  defend  itself  by  stating  I  had  tilted  so  ill,  that  my  course 
had  not  the  least  resemblance  to  my  former  doings,  when  indisputa- 
bly I  bore  away  the  garland.  Therefore  I  am  as  firmly  and  resolute- 
ly determined  that  I  will  tilt  under  my  own  cognisance.  The  hazard, 
indeed,  remains  of  being  beaten.  But  there  is  a  prejudice  (not  an 
undue  one  neither)  in  favour  of  the  original  patentee ;  and  Joe  Man- 
ton's  name  has  borne  out  many  a  sorry  gun-barrel.  More  of  this  to- 
morrow. 

Expense  of  journey £41  0  0 

Anne,  pocket-money 6  0  0 

Servants  on  journey 2  0  0 

Cash  in  purse  (silver  not  reckoned) 2  0  0 

£50  0  0 

1  Chiverton  was  the  first  publication  (anony-  of  historical  manners,  and  the  same  historical 
mous)  of  Mr.  W.  Harrison  Ainsworth,  the  au-  personages  are  introduced.    Of  course,  if  such 
thor  of  Rockwood  and  other  popular  romances.  have  occurred,  I  shall  be  probably  the  sufferer. 
— j.  G.  L.  But  my  intentions  have  been  at  least  innocent, 

2  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  Scott  would  since  I  look  on  it  as  one  of  the  advantages  at- 
not  read  this  book  until  Woodstock  was  fairly  tending  the  conclusion  of  Woodstock,  that  the 
off  his  hands.  finishing  of  my  own  task  will  permit  me  to 

See  ante,  p.  107,  and  the  introduction  to  the  have   the   pleasure   of  reading    BRAMBLETYK- 

original  edition  written  in  March,  1826,  in  which  HOUSK,  from  which  I  have  hitherto  conscien- 

the  author  says: — "Some  accidental  collision  tiously  abstained."  —  Novels,  vol.  xxxix.  pp. 

there  must  be,  when  works  of  a  similar  char-  Ixxv-vi. 

acter  are  finished  on  the  same  general  system  »  Ben  Jonson,  Every  Man  in  hit  Humour. 


180  JOURNAL  [Ocr. 

This  is  like  to  be  an  expensive  journey ;  but  if  I  can  sell  an  early 
copy  of  the  work  to  a  French  translator,  it  should  bring  me  home. 

Thank  God,  little  Johnnie  Hoo,  as  he  calls  himself,  is  looking 
well,  though  the  poor  dear  child  is  kept  always  in  a  prostrate  posture. 

October  18. — I  take  up  again  my  remarks  on  imitators.  I  am  sure 
I  mean  the  gentlemen  no  wrong  by  calling  them  so,  and  heartily  wish 
they  had  followed  a  better  model ;  but  it  serves  to  show  me  veluti  in 
specula  my  own  errors,  or,  if  you  will,  those  of  the  style.  One  advan- 
tage, I  think,  I  still  have  over  all  of  them.  They  may  do  their  fool- 
ing with  better  grace ;  but  I,  like  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek,  do  it  more 
natural.1  They  have  to  read  old  books  and  consult  antiquarian  col- 
lections to  get  their  knowledge ;  I  write  because  I  have  long  since 
read  such  works,  and  possess,  thanks  to  a  strong  memory,  the  infor- 
mation which  they  have  to  seek  for.  This  leads  to  a  dragging-in  his- 
torical details  by  head  and  shoulders,  so  that  the  interest  of  the  main 
piece  is  lost  in  minute  descriptions  of  events  which  do  not  affect  its 
progress.  Perhaps  I  have  sinned  in  this  way  myself ;  indeed,  I  am 
but  too  conscious  of  having  considered  the  plot  only  as  what  Bayes" 
calls  the  means  of  bringing  in  fine  things ;  so'  that  in  respect  to  the 
descriptions,  it  resembled  the  string  of  the  showman's  box,  which  he 
pulls  to  show  in  succession  Kings,  Queens,  the  Battle  of  Waterloo, 
Bonaparte  at  Saint  Helena,  Newmarket  Races,  and  White-headed 
Bob  floored  by  Jemmy  from  town.  All  this  I  may  have  done,  but 
I  have  repented  of  it ;  and  in  my  better  efforts,  while  I  conducted  my 
story  through  the  agency  of  historical  personages,  and  by  connecting 
it  with  historical  incidents,  I  have  endeavoured  to  weave  them  pretty 
closely  together,  and  in  future  I  will  study  this  more.  Must  not  let 
the  background  eclipse  the  principal  figures — the  frame  overpower 
the  picture. 

Another  thing  in  my  favour  is,  that  my  contemporaries  steal  too 
openly.  Mr.  Smith  has  inserted  in  Brambletye  House  whole  pages 
from  Defoe's  Fire  and  Plague  of  London. 

"Steal!  fob!  a  fico  for  the  phrase- 
Convey,  the  wise  it  call!"* 

When  /  convey  an  incident  or  so,  I  am  at  as  much  pains  to  avoid 
detection  as  if  the  offence  could  be  indicted  in  literal  fact  at  the  Old 
Bailey. 

But  leaving  this,  hard  pressed  as  I  am  by  these  imitators,  who 
must  put  the  thing  out  of  fashion  at  last,  I  consider,  like  a  fox  at  his 
last  shifts,  whether  there  be  a  way  to  dodge  them,  some  new  device 
to  throw  them  off,  and  have  a  mile  or  two  of  free  ground,  while  I 
have  legs  and  wind  left  to  use  it.  There  is  one  way  to  give  novelty  : 
to  depend  for  success  on  the  interest  of  a  well-contrived  story.  But 
woe's  me!  that  requires  thought,  consideration — the  writing  out  a 

i  Twelfth  Kight,  Act  n.  Sc.  3.  '  Merry  Wives,  Act  i.  Sc.  3. 

a  Rehearsal,  Act  in.  Sc.  1. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  181 

regular  plan  or  plot  —  above  all  the  adhering  to  one  —  which  I  never 
can  do,  for  the  ideas  rise  as  I  write,  and  bear  such  a  dispropor- 
tioned  extent  to  that  which  each  occupied  at  the  first  concoction,  that 
(cocksnowns  !)  I  shall  never  be  able  to  take  the  trouble  ;  and  yet  to 
make  the  world  stare,  and  gain  a  new  march  ahead  of  them  all  !  !  ! 
Well,  something  we  still  will  do. 

"  Liberty's  in  every  blow  ; 
Let  us  do  or  die  !" 

Poor  Rob  Burns  !  to  tack  thy  fine  strains  of  sublime  patriotism  ! 
Better  take  Tristram  Shandy's  vein.  Hand  me  my  cap  and  bells 
there.  So  now,  I  am  equipped.  I  open  my  raree-show  with 

Ma'am,  will  you  walk  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle? 
And,  sir,  will  you  stalk  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle? 
And,  miss,  will  you  pop  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle  ? 
And,  master,  pray  hop  in,  and  fal  de  ral  diddle? 

Query  —  How  long  is  it  since  I  heard  that  strain  of  dulcet  mood,  and 
where  or  how  came  I  to  pick  it  up  ?  It  is  not  mine,  "  though  by  your 
smiling  you  seem  to  say  so."  '  Here  is  a  proper  morning's  work  ! 
But  I  am  childish  with  seeing  them  all  well  and  happy  here  ;  and  as 
I  can  neither  whistle  nor  sing,  I  must  let  the  giddy  humour  run  to 
waste  on  paper. 

Sallied  forth  in  the  morning;  bought  a  hat.  Met  S[ir]  W[illiam] 
K[nighton],2  from  whose  discourse  I  guess  that  Malachi  has  done  me 
no  prejudice  in  a  certain  quarter  ;  with  more  indications  of  the  times, 
which  I  need  not  set  down. 

Sallied  again  after  breakfast,  and  visited  the  Piccadilly  ladies.3 
Saw  Rogers  and  Richard  Sharp,  also  good  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hughes,  also 
the  Duchess  of  Buckingham,  and  Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  with  a  most 
beautiful  little  girl.  [Owen]  Rees  breakfasted,  and  agreed  I  should 
have  what  the  Frenchman  has  offered  for  the  advantage  of  translat- 
ing Napoleon  which,  being  a  hundred  guineas,  will  help  my  ex- 
penses to  town  and  down  again. 

October  19.  —  I  rose  at  my  usual  time,  but  could  not  write;  so 
read  Southey's  History  of  the  Peninsular  War.  It  is  very  good  in- 
deed, —  honest  English  principle  in  every  line  ;  but  there  are  many 
prejudices,  and  there  is  a  tendency  to  augment  a  work  already  too 
long  by  saying  all  that  can  be  said  of  the  history  of  ancient  times 
appertaining  to  every  place  mentioned.  What  care  we  whether  Sar- 
agossa  be  derived  from  Caesarea  Augusta  ?  Could  he  have  proved  it 
to  be  Numantium,  there  would  have  been  a  concatenation  accordingly.4 

1  Hamlet,  Act  n.  Sc.  2.  early  friends  of  Lady  Scott's.—  See  Life,  vol.  ii. 

l  **"  is  amusing  to  compare  this  criticism  with 


eer. 

of  the  Roman  writers.    See  Life,  voL  vii.  p. 
»  The  Dumergues,  at  15  Piccadilly  West—      352.—  j.  G.  L. 


182  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

Breakfasted  at  Rogers'  with  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence ;  Luttrell,  the 
great  London  wit;1  Richard  Sharp,  etc.  Sam  made  us  merry  with 
an  account  of  some  part  of  Rose's  Ariosto ;  proposed  that  the  Italian 
should  be  printed  on  the  other  side  for  the  sake  of  assisting  the  in- 
dolent reader  to  understand  the  English ;  and  complained  of  his  us- 
ing more  than  once  the  phrase  of  a  lady  having  "  voided  her  saddle," 
which  would  certainly  sound  extraordinary  at  Apothecaries'  Hall. 
Well,  well,  Rose  carries  a  dirk  too."  The  morning  was  too  dark  for 
Westminster  Abbey,  which  we  had  projected. 

I  went  to  the  Foreign  Office,  and  am  put  by  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton 
into  the  hands  of  a  confidential  clerk,  Mr.  Smith,  who  premises  ac- 
cess to  everything.  Then  saw  Croker,  who  gave  me  a  bundle  of  doc- 
uments. Sir  George  Cockburn  promises  his  despatches  and  journal. 
In  short,  I  have  ample  prospect  of  materials. 

Dined  with  Mrs.  Coutts.  Tragi-comic  distress  of  my  good  friend 
on  the  marriage  of  her  presumptive  heir  with  a  daughter  of  Lucien 
Bonaparte. 

October  20. — Commanded  down  to  pass  a  day  at  Windsor.  This 
is  very  kind  of  His  Majesty. 

At  breakfast,  Crofton  Croker,  author  of  the  Irish  Fairy  Tales — 
little  as  a  dwarf,  keen -eyed  as  a  hawk,  and  of  very  prepossessing 
manners.  Something  like  Tom  Moore.  There  were  also  Terry,  Al- 
lan Cunningham,  Newton,  and  others.  Now  I  must  go  to  work. 

Went  down  to  Windsor,  or  rather  to  the  Lodge  in  the  Forest, 
which,  though  ridiculed  by  connoisseurs,  seems  to  be  no  bad  speci- 
men of  a  royal  retirement,  and  is  delightfully  situated.  A  kind  of 
cottage  ornee — too  large  perhaps  for  the  style — but  yet  so  managed 
that  in  the  walks  you  only  see  parts  of  it  at  once,  and  these  well 
composed  and  grouping  with  immense  trees.  His  Majesty  received 
me  with  the  same  mixture  of  kindness  and  courtesy  which  has  al- 
ways distinguished  his  conduct  towards  me.  There  was  no  company 
beside  the  royal  retinue  —  Lady  C[onyngham],  her  daughter,  and 
two  or  three  other  ladies.  After  we  left  table,  there  was  excellent 
music  by  the  Royal  Band,  who  lay  ambushed  in  a  green-house  ad- 
joining the  apartment.  The  King  made  me  sit  beside  him  and  talk 
a  great  deal — too  much,  perhaps — for  he  has  the  art  of  raising  one's 
spirits,  and  making  you  forget  the  retenue  which  is  prudent  every- 
where, especially  at  court.  But  he  converses  himself  with  so  much 
ease  and  elegance,  that  you  lose  thoughts  of  the  prince  in  admiring 
the  well-bred  and  accomplished  gentleman.  He  is,  in  many  respects, 
the  model  of  a  British  monarch — has  little  inclination  to  try  experi- 

'  This  brilliant  conversationalist  was  the  au-  Moore  in  his  Diary  has  embalmed  numerous 

thor  of  several  airy  and  graceful  product  ions  in  examples  of  his  satiric  wit.     Henry  Luttrell 

verse,  which   were   published   anonymously,  died  in  1851. 
such  as  Lines  written  at  Ampthill  Park,  in  1818; 

Advice  to  Julia,  a  Letter  in  Rhi/me,  in  which  he  3  The  Orlando  Furioto,  by  Mr.  Stewart  Rose, 

sketched  high  life  in  London,  in  1820.    He  also  was  published  in  8  vols.  8vo,  London,  1823- 

published  Crockfoni  Howe,  a  rhapsody,  in  1827.  1831. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  183 

ments  on  government  otherwise  than  through  his  ministers — sincere- 
ly, I  believe,  desires  the  good  of  his  subjects,  is  kind  towards  the  dis- 
tressed, and  moves  and  speaks  "  every  inch  a  king."1  I  am  sure 
such  a  man  is  fitter  for  us  than  one  who  would  long  to  head  armies, 
or  be  perpetually  intermeddling  with  la  yrande  politique.  A  sort  of 
reserve,  which  creeps  on  him  daily,  and  prevents  his  going  to  places 
of  public  resort,  is  a  disadvantage,  and  prevents  his  being  so  gener- 
ally popular  as  is  earnestly  to  be  desired.  This,  I  think,  was  much 
increased  by  the  behaviour  of  the  rabble  in  the  brutal  insanity  of  the 
Queen's  trial,  when  John  Bull,  meaning  the  best  in  the  world,  made 
such  a  beastly  figure. 

October  21. — Walked  in  the  morning  with  Sir  William  Knighton, 
and  had  much  confidential  chat,  not  fit  to  be  here  set  down,  in  case 
of  accidents.  He  undertook  most  kindly  to  recommend  Charles,  when 
he  has  taken  his  degree,  to  be  attached  to  some  of  the  diplomatic 
missions,  which  I  think  is  best  for  the  lad  after  all.  After  breakfast 
went  to  Windsor  Castle,  met  by  appointment  my  daughters  and  Lock- 
hart,  and  examined  the  improvements  going  on  there  under  Mr.  Wy- 
attville,  who  appears  to  possess  a  great  deal  of  taste  and  feeling  for 
Gothic  architecture.  The  old  apartments,  splendid  enough  in  extent 
and  proportion,  are  paltry  in  finishing.  Instead  of  being  lined  with 
heart  of  oak,  the  palace  of  the  British  King  is  hung  with  paper, 
painted  wainscot  colour.  There  are  some  fine  paintings  and  some 
droll  ones ;  among  the  last  are  those  of  divers  princes  of  the  House 
of  Mecklenburg-Strelitz,  of  which  Queen  Charlotte  was  descended. 
They  are  ill- coloured,  orang-outang-looking  figures,  with  black  eyes 
and  hook-noses,  in  old-fashioned  uniforms. 

We  returned  to  a  hasty  dinner  [in  Pall  Mall],  and  then  hurried 
away  to  see  honest  Dan  Terry's  house,  called  the  Adelphi  Theatre, 
where  we  saw  the  Pilot,  from  the  American  novel  of  that  name.  It 
is  extremely  popular,  the  dramatist  having  seized  on  the  whole  story, 
and  turned  the  odious  and  ridiculous  parts,  assigned  by  the  original 
author  to  the  British,  against  the  Yankees  themselves.  There  is  a 
quiet  effrontery  in  this  that  is  of  a  rare  and  peculiar  character.  The 
Americans  were  so  much  displeased,  that  they  attempted  a  row — 
which  rendered  the  piece  doubly  attractive  to  the  seamen  at  Wrap- 
ping,  who  came  up  and  crowded  the  house  night  after  night,  to  sup- 
port the  honour  of  the  British  flag.  After  all,  one  must  deprecate 
whatever  keeps  up  ill-will  betwixt  America  and  the  mother  country ; 
and  we  in  particular  should  avoid  awakening  painful  recollections. 
Our  high  situation  enables  us  to  contemn  petty  insults  and  to  make 
advances  towards  cordiality.  I  was,  however,  glad  to  see  honest  Dan's 
theatre  as  full  seemingly  as  it  could  hold.  The  heat  was  dreadful, 
and  Anne  was  so  very  unwell  that  she  was  obliged  to  be  carried  into 
Terry's  house, — a  curious  dwelling,  no  larger  than  a  squirrel's  cage, 

1  King  Lear,  Act  iv.  Sc.  6 — j.  a.  L. 


184  JOURNAL  [OCT. 

which  he  has  contrived  to  squeeze  out  of  the  vacant  spaces  of  the 
theatre,  and  which  is  accessible  by  a  most  complicated  combination 
of  staircases  and  small  passages.  Here  we  had  rare  good  porter  and 
oysters  after  the  play,  and  found  Anne  much  better.  She  had  at- 
tempted too  much ;  indeed  I  myself  was  much  fatigued. 

October  22. — This  morning  Drs.  Gooch,  Shaw,  and  Yates  break- 
fasted, and  had  a  consultation  about  wee  Johnnie.  They  give  us 
great  hopes  that  his  health  will  be  established,  but  the  seaside  or  the 
country  seem  indispensable.  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton,1  Under  Secretary 
of  State,  also  breakfasted.  He  is  full  of  some  new  plan  of  relieving 
the  poor's-rates  by  encouraging  emigration.  But  John  Bull  will 
think  this  savours  of  Botany  Bay.  The  attempt  to  look  the  poor's- 
rates  in  the  face  is  certainly  meritorious. 

Laboured  in  writing  and  marking  extracts  to  be  copied  from  break- 
fast to  dinner,  with  the  exception  of  an  hour  spent  in  telling  Johnnie 
the  history  of  his  namesake,  Gilpin. 

Mr.  William  and  Mrs.  Lockhart  dined  with  us.  Tom  Moore"  and 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  came  in  the  evening,  which  made  a  pleasant 
soiree.  Smoke  my  French — Egad,  it  is  time  to  air  some  of  my  vo- 
cabulary. It  is,  I  find,  cursedly  musty. 

October  23. — Sam  Rogers  and  Moore  breakfasted  here,  and  we 
were  very  merry  fellows.  Moore  seemed  disposed  to  go  to  France 
with  us.  I  visited  the  Admiralty,  and  got  Sir  George  Cockburn's 
journal,  which  is  valuable.8  Also  visited  Lady  Elizabeth  and  Sir 
Charles  Stewart.  My  heart  warmed  to  the  former,  on  account  of  the 
old  Balcarres  connection.  Sir  Charles  and  she  were  very  kind  and 
communicative.  I  foresee  I  will  be  embarrassed  with  more  commu- 
nications than  I  can  well  use  or  trust  to,  coloured  as  they  must  be  by 
the  passions  of  those  who  make  them.  Thus  I  have  a  statement 
from  the  Duchess  d'Escars,  to  which  the  Bonapartists  would,  I  dare 
say,  give  no  credit.  If  Talleyrand,  for  example,  could  be  communi- 
cative, he  must  have  ten  thousand  reasons  for  perverting  the  truth, 
and  yet  a  person  receiving  a  direct  communication  from  him  would 
be  almost  barred  from  disputing  it. 

"  Sing  tantararara,  rogues  all." 
We  dined  at  the   Residentiary -house  with  good  Dr.  Hughes,4 

1  Afterwards  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Robert  W11-  picion  on  Moore's  part  shows  how  he  had  mis- 

mot  Horton,  Governor  of  Ceylon.  understood  Scott's   real  character.     If  Scott 

a  Moore,  on  hearing  of  Scott's  arrival,  hast-  thought  it  right  to  ask  the  Bard  of  Ireland  to 

ened  to  London  from  Sloperton,  and  had  sev-  be  his  companion,  110  hints  from  Mr.  Wilmot 

eral  pleasant  meetings,  particulars  of  which  are  Horton,  or  any  members  of  the  Court  party, 

given  in  his  Diary  (vol.  v.  pp.  121  to  126).     He  would  have  influenced  him,  even  though  they 

would,  as  Scott  says  on  the  23d,  have  gone  to  had  urged  that  "this  political  reprobate  "  was 

Paris  with  them — "seemed  disposed  to  go";  author  of  Tke  Fudge  Family  in  Paris  and  the 

but  between  that  date  and  25th  fancied  that  he  Twopenny  Post-Bag. 

saw  something  in  Scott's  manner  that  made  s  Sir  George  died  in  1853.     His  journal  does 

him  hesitate,  and  then  finally  give  up  the  idea.  not  appear  to  have  been  published. 

He  adds  that  Scott's  friends  had  thrown  out  *  Dr.  Hughes,  who  died  Jan.  6,  1833,  aged 

hints  as  to  the  impropriety  of  such  a  political  seventy-seven,  was  one  of  the  Canons-residen- 

reprobate  forming  one  of  the  party.    This  BUS-  tiary  of  St.  Paul's,  London.     He   and  Mrs. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  185 

Allan  Cunningham,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  and  young  Mr.  Hughes. 
Thomas  Pringle1  is  returned  from  the  Cape,  and  called  in  my  ab- 
sence. He  might  have  done  well  there,  could  he  have  scoured  his 
brain  of  politics,  but  he  must  needs  publish  a  Whig  journal  at  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  !  He  is  a  worthy  creature,  but  conceited  withal 
— hinc  illce  lachrymce.  He  brought  me  some  antlers  and  a  skin,  in 
addition  to  others  he  had  sent  to  Abbotsford  four  year  since.  Crof- 
ton  Croker  made  me  a  present  of  a  small  box  of  curious  Irish  antiq- 
uities containing  a  gold  fibula,  etc.,  etc. 

October  24. — Laboured  in  the  morning.  At  breakfast  Dr.  Hol- 
land2 and  Cohen,  whom  they  now  call  Palgrave,3  a  mutation  of  names 
which  confused  my  recollections.  Item,  Moore.  I  worked  at  the 
Colonial  Office  pretty  hard.  Dined  with  Mr.  Wilmot  Horton  and 
his  beautiful  wife,  the  original  of  the  "She  walks  in  Beauty"  etc.,  of 
poor  Byron. 

The  conversation  is  seldom  excellent  among  official  people.  So 
many  topics  are  what  Otaheitians  call  taboo.  We  hunted  down  a 
pun  or  two,  which  were  turned  out,  like  the  stag  at  the  Epping  Hunt, 
for  the  pursuit  of  all  and  sundry.  Came  home  early,  and  was  in  bed 
by  eleven. 

October  25. — Good  Mr.  Wilson4  and  his  wife  at  breakfast ;  also 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  Locker5  came  in  afterwards,  and  made  a  pro- 
posal to  me  to  give  up  his  intended  Life  of  George  JIL  in  my  favour 
on  cause  shown.  I  declined  the  proposal,  not  being  of  opinion  that 
my  genius  lies  that  way,  and  not  relishing  hunting  in  couples.  Af- 
terwards went  to  the  Colonial  Office,  and  had  Robert  Hay's  assistance 
in  my  inquiries;  then  to  the  French  Ambassador  for  my  passports. 
Picked  up  Sotheby,  who  endeavoured  to  saddle  me  for  a  review  of 
his  polyglot  Virgil.  I  fear  I  shall  scarce  convince  him  that  I  know 
nothing  of  the  Latin  lingo.  Sir  R.  H.  Inglis,  Richard  Sharp,  and 
other  friends  called.  WTe  dined  at  Miss  Dumergue's,  and  spent  a 
part  of  our  soiree  at  Lydia  White's.  To-morrow, 

"For  France,  for  France,  for  it  is  more  than  need."8 

Hughes  were  old  friends  of  Sir  Walter,  who  had  tection;  but  the  newspaper  alluded  to  in  the 

been  godfather  to  one  of  their  grandchildren.  text  ruined  his  prospects  at  the  Cape;  he  re- 

— See  Life,  vol.  vii.  pp.  259-260.    Their  son  was  turned  to  England,  became  Secretary  to  the 

John   Hughes,  Esq.,  of  Oriel    College,  whose  Anti-Slavery  Society,  published  a  charming  lit- 

"  Itinerary  of  the  Rhone  "  is  mentioned  with  tie  volume  entitled  African  Sketches,  and  died 

praise  in  the  introduction  to  Quentin  Durward.  in  December,  1834.      He  was  a  man  of  amiable 

— See  letter  to  Charles  Scott,  in  Life,  vol.  vii.  feelings  and  elegant  genius. 

p.  275.  2  An  esteemed  friend  of  Sir  Walter's,  who  at- 

1  Mr.  Pringle  was  a  Roxburghshire  farmer's  tended  on  him  during  his  illness  in  October 

son  who  in  youth  attracted  Sir  Walter's  notice  1831,  and  in  June,  1832. 

by  his  poem  called  The  Autumnal  Excursion;  3  Afterwards  Sir  Francis  Palgrave,  Deputy- 

or,  Sketches  in  Teviotdale.     He  was  for  a  short  Keeper  of  the  public  records,  and  author  of  the 

time  Editor  of  Blackwood's  Magazine,  but  the  History  of  Normandy  ana  England,  4   vols. 

publisher  and  he  had  different  politics,  quar-  8vo,  1851-1864,  and  other  works, 

relied,  and  parted.    Sir  Walter  then  gave  Prin-  4  William  Wilson  of  Wandsworth  Common, 

gle  strong  recommendations  to  the  late  Lord  formerly  of  Wilsontown,  in  Lanarkshire. — J.G.L. 

Charles  Somerset,  Governor  of  the  Cape  of  6  E.  H.  Locker,  then  Secretary  of  Greenwich 

Good  Hope,  in  which  colony  he  settled,  and  for  Hospital.— See  ante,  Oct.  7. 

some  years  throve  under  the  Governor's  pro-  •  King  John,  Act  i.  Sc.  1. 


186  JOURNAL  fOci. 

[Calais,]  October  26. — Up  at  five,  and  in  the  packet  by  six.  A 
fine  passage — save  at  the  conclusion,  while  we  lay  on  and  off  the  har- 
bour of  Calais.  But  the  tossing  made  no  impression  on  my  com- 
panion or  me ;  we  ate  and  drank  like  dragons  the  whole  way,  and 
were  able  to  manage  a  good  supper  and  best  part  of  a  bottle  of  Cha- 
blis,  at  the  classic  Dessein's,  who  received  us  with  much  courtesy. 

October  27. — Custom  House,  etc.,  detained  us  till  near  ten  o'clock, 
so  we  had  time  to  walk  on  the  Boulevards,  and  to  see  the  fortifica- 
tions, which  must  be  very  strong,  all  the  country  round  being  flat  and 
marshy.  Lost,  as  all  know,  by  the  bloody  papist  bitch  (one  must  be 
vernacular  when  on  French  ground)  Queen  Mary,  of  red-hot  memory. 
I  would  rather  she  had  burned  a  score  more  of  bishops.  If  she  had 
kept  it,  her  sister  Bess  would  sooner  have  parted  with  her  virginity. 
Charles  i.  had  no  temptation  to  part  with  it — it  might,  indeed,  have 
been  shuffled  out  of  our  hands  during  the  Civil  wars,  but  Noll  would 
have  as  soon  let  monsieur  draw  one  of  his  grinders ;  then  Charles  n. 
would  hardly  have  dared  to  sell  such  an  old  possession,  as  he  did 
Dunkirk ;  and  after  that  the  French  had  little  chance  till  the  Revolu- 
tion. Even  then,  I  think,  we  could  have  held  a  place  that  could  be 
supplied  from  our  own  element,  the  sea.  Cui  bono  ?  None,  I  think, 
but  to  plague  the  rogues. — We  dined  at  Cormont,  and  being  stopped 
by  Mr.  Canning  having  taken  up  all  the  post-horses,  could  only  reach 
Montreuil  that  night.  I  should  have  liked  to  have  seen  some  more 
of  this  place,  which  is  fortified ;  and  as  it  stands  on  an  elevated  and 
rocky  site  must  present  some  fine  points.  But  as  we  came  in  late 
and  left  early,  I  can  only  bear  witness  to  good  treatment,  good  sup- 
per, good  vin  de  JBarsac,  and  excellent  beds. 

October  28. — Breakfasted  at  Abbeville,  and  saw  a  very  handsome 
Gothic  church,  and  reached  Grandvilliers  at  night.  The  house  is  but 
second-rate,  though  lauded  by  various  English  travellers  for  the  mod- 
eration of  its  charges,  as  was  recorded  in  a  book  presented  to  us  by 
the  landlady.  There  is  no  great  patriotism  in  publishing  that  a  trav- 
eller thinks  the  bills  moderate ;  it  serves  usually  as  an  intimation  to 
mine  host  or  hostess  that  John  Bull  will  bear  a  little  more  squeezing. 
I  gave  my  attestation  too,  however,  for  the  charges  of  the  good  lady 
resembled  those  elsewhere ;  and  her  anxiety  to  please  was  extreme. 
Folks  must  be  harder -hearted  than  I  am  to  resist  the  empressement, 
which  may,  indeed,  be  venal,  yet  has  in  its  expression  a  touch  of 
cordiality. 

[Paris,']  October  29. — Breakfasted  at  Beauvais,  and  saw  its  mag- 
nificent cathedral — unfinished  it  has  been  left,  and  unfinished  it  will 
remain,  of  course, —  the  fashion- of  cathedrals  being  passed  away. 
But  even  what  exists  is  inimitable,  the  choir  particularly,  and  the 
grand  front.  Beauvais  is  called  the  Pucelle,  yet,  so  far  as  I  can  see, 
she  wears  no  stays — I  mean,  has  no  fortifications.  On  we  run,  how- 
ever. Vogue  la  galere  ;  et  voila  nous  a  Paris,  Hotel  de  Windsor  [Rue 
Rivoli],  where  we  are  well  lodged.  France,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  which 


1826.]  JOURNAL  187 

is  very  little,  has  not  undergone  many  changes.  The  image  of  war 
has,  indeed,  passed  away,  and  we  no  longer  see  troops  crossing  the 
country  in  every  direction  ;  villages  either  ruined  or  hastily  fortified  ; 
inhabitants  sheltered  in  the  woods  and  caves  to  escape  the  rapacity 
of  the  soldiers — all  this  has  passed  away.  The  inns  are  much  amend- 
ed. There  is  no  occasion  for  that  rascally  practice  of  making  a  bar- 
gain—  or  combien-mg  your  landlady,  before  you  unharness  your 
horses,  which  formerly  was  a  matter  of  necessity.  The  general  taste 
of  the  English  seems  to  regulate  the  travelling — naturally  enough,  as 
the  hotels,  of  which  there  are  two  or  three  in  each  town,  chiefly  sub- 
sist by  them.  We  did  not  see  one  French  equipage  on  the  road ; 
the  natives  seem  to  travel  entirely  in  the  Diligence,  and  doubtless  a 
bon  marche ;  the  road  was  thronged  with  English. 

But  in  her  great  features  France  is  the  same  as  ever.  An  oppres- 
sive air  of  solitude  seems  to  hover  over  these  rich  and  extended 
plains,  while  we  are  sensible  that,  whatever  is  the  motive  of  the  des- 
olation, it  cannot  be  sterility.  The  towns  are  small,  and  have  a  poor 
appearance,  and  more  frequently  exhibit  signs  of  decayed  splendour 
than  of  thriving  and  increasing  prosperity.  The  chateau,  the  abode 
of  the  gentleman,  and  the  villa,  the  retreat  of  the  thriving  negotiant, 
are  rarely  seen  till  you  come  to  Beaumont.  At  this  place,  which  well 
deserves  its  name  of  the  fair  mount,  the  prospect  improves  greatly, 
and  country-seats  are  seen  in  abundance;  also  woods,  sometimes 
deep  and  extensive,  at  other  times  scattered  in  groves  and  single 
trees.  Amidst  these  the  oak  seldom  or  never  is  found ;  England, 
lady  of  the  ocean,  seems  to  claim  it  exclusively  as  her  own.  Nei- 
ther are  there  any  quantity  of  firs.  Poplars  in  abundance  give  a  for- 
mal air  to  the  landscape.  The  forests  chiefly  consist  of  beeches, 
with  some  birches,  and  the  roads  are  bordered  by  elms  cruelly 
cropped,  pollarded,  and  switched.  The  demand  for  firewood  occa- 
sions these  mutilations.  If  I  could  waft  by  a  wish  the  thinnings  of 
Abbotsford  here,  it  would  make  a  little  fortune  of  itself.  But  then 
to  switch  and  mutilate  my  trees ! — not  for  a  thousand  francs.  Ay, 
but  sour  grapes,  quoth  the  fox, 

October  30. — Finding  ourselves  snugly  settled  in  our  Hotel,  we 
determined  to  remain  here  at  fifteen  francs  per  day.  We  are  in  the 
midst  of  what  can  be  seen,  and  we  are  very  comfortably  fed  and  lodged. 

This  morning  wet  and  surly.  Sallied,  however,  by  the  assistance 
of  a  hired  coach,  and  left  cards  for  Count  Pozzo  di  Borgo,  Lord 
Granville,  our  ambassador,  and  M.  Gallois,  author  of  the  History  of 
Venice?  Found  no  one  at  home,  not  even  the  old  pirate  Galignani,3 

i  There  were  two  well-known  Frenchmen  of  he  was  only  thirty-seven,  and  it  can  scarcely 

this  name  at  the  time  of  Scott's  visit  to  Paris:  be  of  him  that  Scott  writes  (p.  288)  as  an  "el- 

(1)  Jean-Antoine-Gauvain  Gallois,  who  was  born  derly  "  man.    The  probability  is  that  it  was 

about  1755  and  died  in  1828;  (i)  Charles-Andre-  the  elder  Gallois  whom  Scott  saw.  and  that  he 

Gustave-Leonard  Gallois,  born  1789,  died  1851.  ascribed  to  him,  though  the  title  is  misquoted, 
It  was  the  latter  of  these  who  translated  from  •  a  work  written  by  the  younger, 

the  Italian  of  Colletta  Cinq  jours  de  Vhistoire  2  "When  he  was  in  Paris,"  Hazlitt  writes, 

de  Naples,  8vo,  Paris,  1820.    But  at  this  date  "and  went  to  Galiguaui's,  he  sat  down  in  an 


188  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

at  whose  den  I  ventured  to  call.  Showed  my  companion  the  Louvre 
(which  was  closed,  unluckily),  the  front  of  the  palace  with  its  courts, 
and  all  that  splendid  quarter  which  the  fame  of  Paris  rests  upon  in 
security.  We  can  never  do  the  like  in  Britain.  Royal  magnificence 
can  only  be  displayed  by  despotic  power.  In  England,  were  the 
most  splendid  street  or  public  building  to  be  erected,  the  matter 
must  be  discussed  in  Parliament,  or  perhaps  some  sturdy  cobbler 
holds  out,  and  refuses  to  part  with  his  stall,  and  the  whole  plan  is 
disconcerted.  Long  may  such  impediments  exist !  But  then  we 
should  conform  to  circumstances,  and  assume  in  our  public  works  a 
certain  sober  simplicity  of  character,  which  should  point  out  that 
they  were  dictated  by  utility  rather  than  show.  The  affectation  of 
an  expensive  style  only  places  us  at  a  disadvantageous  contrast  with 
other  nations,  and  our  substitute  of  brick  and  plaster  for  freestone 
resembles  the  mean  ambition  which  displays  Bristol  stones  in  default 
of  diamonds. 

We  went  to  theatre  in  the  evening — Comedie  Franchise  the  place, 
Rosemunde  the  piece.  It  is  the  composition  of  a  young  man  with  a 
promising  name — Emile  de  Bonnechose  ;  the  story  that  of  Fair  Ros- 
amond. There  were  some  good  situations,  and  the  actors  in  the 
French  taste  seemed  to  me  admirable,  particularly  Mademoiselle 
Bourgoin.  It  would  be  absurd  to  attempt  to  criticise  what  I  only 
half  understood ;  but  the  piece  was  well  received,  and  produced  a 
very  strong  effect.  Two  or  three  ladies  were  carried  out  in  hysterics ; 
one  next  to  our  box  was  frightfully  ill.  A  Monsieur  a  belles  mous- 
taches— the  husband,  I  trust,  though  it  is  likely  they  were  en  partie 
fine  —  was  extremely  and  affectionately  assiduous.  She  was  well 
worthy  of  the  trouble,  being  very  pretty  indeed ;  the  face  beautiful, 
even  amidst  the  involuntary  convulsions.  The  afterpiece  was  Femme 
Juge  et  Partie,  with  which  I  was  less  amused  than  I  had  expected, 
because  I  found  I  understood  the  language  less  than  I  did  ten  or 
eleven  years  since.  Well,  well,  I  am  past  the  age  of  mending. 

Some  of  our  friends  in  London  had  pretended  that  at  Paris  I 
might  stand  some  chance  of  being  encountered  by  the  same  sort  of 
tumultuary  reception  which  I  met  in  Ireland ;  but  for  this  I  see  no 
ground.  It  is  a  point  on  which  I  am  totally  indifferent.  As  a  liter- 
ary man  I  cannot  affect  to  despise  public  applause ;  as  a  private  gen- 
tleman I  have  always  been  embarrassed  and  displeased  with  popular 
clamours,  even  when  in  my  favour.  I  know  very  well  the  breath  of 
which  such  shouts  are  composed,  and  am  sensible  those  who  applaud 
me  to-day  would  be  as  ready  to  toss  me  to-morrow ;  and  I  would  not 
have  them  think  that  I  put  such  a  value  on  their  favour  as  would 
make  me  for  an  instant  fear  their  displeasure.  Now  all  this  discla- 
mation is  sincere,  and  yet  it  sounds  affected.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of 

outer  room  to  look  at  some  book  he  wanted  to  was  in  a  commotion." — From  Mr.  Alexander 
see ;  none  of  the  clerks  had  the  least  suspicion  Ireland's  excellent  Selections  from  HazlitVs 
who  he  was.  When  it  was  found  out,  the  place  writings,  8vo,  Lond.  1889,  p.  482. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  189 

an  old  woman  who,  when  Carlisle  was  taken  by  the  Highlanders  in 
1745,  chose  to  be  particularly  apprehensive  of  personal  violence,  and 
shut  herself  up  in  a  closet,  in  order  that  she  might  escape  ravishment. 
But  no  one  came  to  disturb  her  solitude,  and  she  began  to  be  sensi- 
ble that  poor  Donald  was  looking  out  for  victuals,  or  seeking  for 
some  small  plunder,  without  bestowing  a  thought  on  the  fair  sex ;  by 
and  by  she  popped  her  head  out  of  her  place  of  refuge  with  the 
petty  question,  "  Good  folks,  can  you  tell  when  the  ravishing  is  go- 
ing to  begin  ?"  I  am  sure  I  shall  neither  hide  myself  to  avoid  ap- 
plause, which  probably  no  one  will  think  of  conferring,  nor  have  the 
meanness  to  do  anything  which  can  indicate  any  desire  of  ravish- 
ment. I  have  seen,  when  the  late  Lord  Erskiue  entered  the  Edin- 
burgh theatre,  papers  distributed  in  the  boxes  to  mendicate  a  round 
of  applause — the  natural  reward  of  a  poor  player. 

October  31. — At  breakfast  visited  by  M.  Gallois,  an  elderly  French- 
man (always  the  most  agreeable  class),  full  of  information,  courteous 
and  communicative.  He  had  seen  nearly,  and  remarked  deeply,  and 
spoke  frankly,  though  with  due  caution.  He  went  with  us  to  the 
Museum,  where  I  think  the  Hall  of  Sculpture  continues  to  be  a  fine 
thing;  that  of  Pictures  but  tolerable,  when  we  reflect  upon  1815.  A 
number  of  great  French  daubs  (comparatively),  by  David  and  Gerard, 
cover  the  walls  once  occupied  by  the  Italian  chefs-d'oeuvre.  Fiatjus- 
titia,  mat  coelum.  We  then  visited  Notre  Dame  and  the  Palace  of 
Justice.  The  latter  is  accounted  the  oldest  building  in  Paris,  being 
the  work  of  St.  Louis.  It  is,  however,  in  the  interior,  adapted  to  the 
taste  of  Louis  xiv.  We  drove  over  the  Pont  Neuf,  and  visited  the 
fine  quays,  which  was  all  we  could  make  out  to-day,  as  I  was  afraid 
to  fatigue  Anne.  When  we  returned  home  I  found  Count  Pozzo  di 
Borgo  waiting  for  me,  a  personable  man,  inclined  to  be  rather  corpu- 
lent— handsome  features,  with  all  the  Corsican  fire  in  his  eye.  He 
was  quite  kind  and  communicative.  Lord  Granville  had  also  called, 
and  sent  Mr.  Jones  [his  secretary]  to  invite  us  to  dinner  to-morrow. 
In  the  evening  at  the  Odeon,  where  we  saw  Ivanhoe.  It  was  superb- 
ly got  up,  the  Norman  soldiers  wearing  pointed  helmets  and  what 
resembled  much  hauberks  of  mail,  which  looked  very  well.  The 
number  of  the  attendants,  and  the  skill  with  which  they  were  moved 
and  grouped  on  the  stage,  were  well  worthy  of  notice.  It  was  an 
opera,  and  of  course  the  story  greatly  mangled,  and  the  dialogue  in 
a  great  part  nonsense.  Yet  it  was  strange  to  hear  anything  like  the 
words  which  I  (then  in  an  agony  of  pain  with  spasms  in  my  stomach) 
dictated  to  William  Laidlaw  at  Abbotsford,  now  recited  in  a  foreign 
tongue,  and  for  the  amusement  of  a  strange  people.  I  little  thought 
to  have  survived  the  completing  of  this  novel.1 

i  Ivanhoe  might  have  borne  a  motto  some-  the  gout:  "  Fredericus  I.  in  tormentis  pinxit." 

what  analogous  to  the  inscription  which  Fred-  — RecoUfctions    of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  p.  240. 

crick  the  Great's  predecessor  used  to  affix  to  Lond.  1837. 
his  attempts  at  portrait-painting  when  he  had 


NOVEMBER 

November  1. — I  suppose  the  ravishing  is  going  to  begin,  for  we 
have  had  the  Dames  des  Halles,  with  a  bouquet  like  a  maypole,  and 
a  speech  full  of  honey  and  oil,  which  cost  me  ten  francs ;  also  a  small 
worshipper,  who  would  not  leave  his  name,  but  came  seulement  pour 
avoir  le  plaisir,  lafelicite  etc.,  etc.  All  this  jargon  I  answer  with  cor- 
responding blarney  of  my  own,  for  "  have  I  not  licked  the  black  stone 
of  that  ancient  castle  ?"  As  to  French,  I  speak  it  as  it  comes,  and 
like  Doeg  in  Absalom  and  Achitophel — 

" dash  on  through  thick  and  thin, 

Through  sense  and  nonsense,  never  out  nor  in." 

We  went  this  morning  with  M.  Gallois  to  the  Church  of  St.  Gene- 
vieve,  and  thence  to  the  College  Henri  iv.,  where  I  saw  once  more 
my  old  friend  Chevalier.1  He  was  unwell,  swathed  in  a  turban  of 
nightcaps  and  a  multiplicity  of  robes  de  ckambre ;  but  he  had  all  the 
heart  and  the  vivacity  of  former  times.  I  was  truly  glad  to  see  the 
kind  old  man.  We  were  unlucky  in  our  day  for  sights,  this  being  a 
high  festival — All  Souls'  Day.  We  were  not  allowed  to  scale  the 
steeple  of  St.  Genevieve,  neither  could  we  see  the  animals  at  the 
Jardin  des  Plantes,  who,  though  they  have  no  souls,  it  is  supposed, 
and  no  interest  of  course  in  the  devotions  of  the  day,  observe  it  in 
strict  retreat,  like  the  nuns  of  Kilkenny.  I  met,  however,  one  lioness 
walking  at  large  in  the  Jardin,  and  was  introduced.  This  was  Ma- 
dame de  Souza,8  the  authoress  of  some  well-known  French  romances 
of  a  very  classical  character,  I  am  told,  for  I  have  never  read  them. 
She  must  have  been  beautiful,  and  is  still  well-looked.  She  is  the 
mother  of  the  handsome  Count  de  Flahault,  and  had  a  very  well-look- 
ing daughter  with  her,  besides  a  son  or  two.  She  was  very  agreea- 
ble. We  are  to  meet  again.  The  day  becoming  decidedly  rainy,  we 
returned  along  the  Boulevards  by  the  Bridge  of  Austerlitz,  but  the 
weather  was  so  indifferent  as  to  spoil  the  fine  show. 

We  dined  at  the  Ambassador's — Lord  Granville,  formerly  Lord 
Leveson  Gower.  He  inhabits  the  same  splendid  house  which  Lord 
Castlereagh  had  in  1815,  namely,  Numero  30,  Rue  du  Fauxbourg  St. 

>  For  an  account  of  M.  Chevalier,  and  an  in-  the  subject  of  an  article  in  the  Edinburgh,  No. 
teryiew  in  1815 -with  David  "of  the  blood-  68,  written  by  Moore.  At  the  time  Scott  met 
stained  brush,"  see  Life,  vol.  v.  p.  87.  her  she  had  just  lost  her  second  husband,  who 

is  remembered  by  his  magnificent  editions  of 

a  Madame  de  Souza-Botelho,  author  of  AdMe  Camoens'  Lutiad,  on  which  it  is  said  he  spent 
d«  Senanges,  and  other  works,  which  formed  about  £4000.  Mme.  de  Souza  died  in  1836, 


Nov.  1826.]  JOURNAL  191 

Honore.  It  once  belonged  to  Pauline  Borghese,  and  if  its  walls 
could  speak,  they  might  tell  us  mighty  curious  stories.  Without 
their  having  any  tongue,  they  spoke  to  my  feelings  "  with  most  mi- 
raculous organ."1  In  these  halls  I  had  often  seen  and  conversed  fa- 
miliarly with  many  of  the  great  and  powerful,  who  won  the  world  by 
their  swords,  and  divided  it  by  their  counsel. 

Here  I  saw  very  much  of  poor  Lord  Castlereagh — a  man  of  sense, 
presence  of  mind,  courage,  and  fortitude,  which  carried  him  through 
many  an  affair  of  critical  moment,  when  finer  talents  might  have 
stuck  in  the  mire.  He  had  been,  I  think,  indifferently  educated,  and 
his  mode  of  speaking  being  far  from  logical  or  correct,  he  was  some- 
times in  danger  of  becoming  almost  ridiculous,  in  spite  of  his  lofty 
presence,  which  had  all  the  grace  of  the  Seymours,  and  his  deter- 
mined courage.2  But  then  he  was  always  up  to  the  occasion,  and 
upon  important  matters  was  an  orator  to  convince,  if  not  to  delight, 
his  hearers.  He  is  gone,  and  my  friend  Stanhope  also,  whose  kind- 
ness this  town  so  strongly  recalls.  It  is  remarkable  they  were  the 
only  persons  of  sense  and  credibility  who  both  attested  supernat- 
ural appearances  on  their  own  evidence,  and  both  died  in  the  same 
melancholy  manner.  I  shall  always  tremble  when  any  friend  of  mine 
becomes  visionary.3 

I  have  seen  in  these  rooms  the  Emperor  Alexander,  Platoff, 
Schwarzenberg,  old  Blucher,  Fouche,  and  many  a  marechal  whose 
truncheon  had  guided  armies — all  now  at  peace,  without  subjects, 
without  dominion,  and  where  their  past  life,  perhaps,  seems  but  the 
recollection  of  a  feverish  dream.  What  a  group  would  this  band 
have  made  in  the  gloomy  regions  described  in  the  Odyssey  !  But  to 
lesser  things.  We  were  most  kindly  received  by  Lord  and  Lady  Gran- 
ville,  and  met  many  friends,  some  of  them  having  been  guests  at 
Abbotsford;  among  these  were  Lords  Ashley  and  Morpeth — there 
were  also  Charles  Ellis  (Lord  Seaford  now),  cum  plurimis  aliis.  Anne 
saw  for  the  first  time  an  entertainment  a  la  mode  de  France,  where  the 
gentlemen  left  the  parlour  with  the  ladies.  In  diplomatic  houses  it  is  a 
good  way  of  preventing  political  discussion,  which  John  Bull  is  always 
apt  to  introduce  with  the  second  bottle.  We  left  early,  and  came  home 
at  ten,  much  pleased  with  Lord  and  Lady  Granville's  kindness,  though 
it  was  to  be  expected,  as  our  recommendations  came  from  Windsor. 

November  2. — Another  gloomy  day — a  pize  upon  it ! — and  we  have 
settled  to  go  to  Saint  Cloud,  and  dine,  if  possible,  with  the  Drum- 
monds  at  Auteuil.  Besides,  I  expect  poor  W.  R.  S[pencer]  to  break- 
fast. There  is  another  thought  which  depresses  me. 

'  Hamlet,  Act  n.  Sc.  2.  Boy,  is  that  one  night,  when  he  was  in  bar- 

»  The  following  mixed  metaphor  is  said  to  ™ck?  and  alone,  he  saw  a  figure  glide  from  the 

have  been  taken  from  one  of  his  speeches:-  fireplace  the  face  becoming  brighter  as  it  ap- 

"  Ministers  were  not  to  look  on  like  Crocko-  preached  him     On  Lord  Castlereagh  stepping 

diles,  with  their  hands  in  their  breeches'  pock-  folTard,  to  ,meet  \\ the  .fi&u,re  *****  *S&}.D< 

Pt«  Hm™  nnthin<r  "  an(l  as  be  advanced  it  gradually  faded  from  his 

view.    Sir  Walter  does  not  tell  us  of  his  friend 

3  The  story  regarding  Castlereagh 's  Radiant  Stanhope's  ghostly  experience. 


192  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

Well — but  let  us  jot  down  a  little  politics,  as  my  book  has  a  pret- 
ty firm  lock.  The  Whigs  may  say  what  they  please,  but  I  think  the 
Bourbons  will  stand.  Gallois,  no  great  Royalist,  says  that  the  Duke 
of  Orleans  lives  on  the  best  terms  with  the  reigning  family,  which  is 
wise  on  his  part,  for  the  golden  fruit  may  ripen  and  fall  of  itself,  but 
it  would  be  dangerous  to 

"Lend  the  crowd  his  arm  to  shake  the  tree."1 

The  army,  which  was  Bonaparte's  strength,  is  now  very  much  changed 
by  the  gradual  influence  of  time,  which  has  removed  many,  and  made 
invalids  of  many  more.  The  citizens  are  neutral,  and  if  the  King  will 
govern  according  to  the  Charte,  and,  what  is  still  more,  according  to 
the  habits  of  the  people,  he  will  sit  firm  enough,  and  the  constitution 
will  gradually  attain  more  and  more  reverence  as  age  gives  it  author- 
ity, and  distinguishes  it  from  those  temporary  and  ephemeral  govern- 
ments, which  seemed  only  set  up  to  be  pulled  down.  The  most  dan- 
gerous point  in  the  present  state  of  France  is  that  of  religion.  It  is, 
no  doubt,  excellent  in  the  Bourbons  to  desire  to  make  France  a  relig- 
ious country ;  but  they  begin,  I  think,  at  the  wrong  end.  To  press 
the  observances  and  ritual  of  religion  on  those  who  are  not  influenced 
by  its  doctrines  is  planting  the  growing  tree  with  its  head  downwards. 
Rites  are  sanctified  by  belief ;  but  belief  can  never  arise  out  of  an  en- 
forced observance  of  ceremonies ;  it  only  makes  men  detest  what  is 
imposed  on  them  by  compulsion.  Then  these  Jesuits,  who  constitute 
emphatically  an  imperium  in,  imperio,  labouring  first  for  the  benefit  of 
their  own  order,  and  next  for  that  of  the  Roman  See — what  is  it  but 
the  introduction  into  France  of  a  foreign  influence  whose  interest  may 
often  run  counter  to  the  general  welfare  of  the  kingdom  ? 

We  have  enough  of  ravishment.  M.  Meurice  writes  me  that  he  is 
ready  to  hang  himself  that  we  did  not  find  accommodation  at  his  ho- 
tel ;  and  Madame  Mirbel  came  almost  on  her  knees  to  have  permission 
to  take  my  portrait.  I  was  cruel ;  but,  seeing  her  weeping-ripe,  con- 
sented she  should  come  to-morrow  and  work  while  I  wrote.  A  Rus- 
sian Princess  Galitzin,  too,  demands  to  see  me  in  the  heroic  vein ; 
"Elle  vouloit  traverser  les  mers  pour  oiler  voir  S.  W.  S.,"  and  offers 
me  a  rendezvous  at  my  hotel.  This  is  precious  tomfoolery ;  however, 
it  is  better  than  being  neglected  like  a  fallen  sky-rocket,  which  seemed 
like  to  be  my  fate  last  year. 

We  went  to  Saint  Cloud  with  my  old  friend  Mr.  Drummond,  now 
at  a  pretty  maison  de  campagne  at  Auteuil.  Saint  Cloud,  besides  its 
unequalled  views,  is  rich  in  remembrances.  I  did  not  fail  to  revisit 
the  Orangerie,  out  of  which  Bon.  expelled  the  Council  of  [Five  Hun- 
dred], I  thought  I  saw  the  scoundrels  jumping  the  windows,  with 
the  bayonets  at  their  rumps.  What  a  pity  the  house  was  not  two  sto- 
ries high  !  I  asked  the  Swiss  some  questions  on  the  locale,  which  he 

'  Drydcn's  Absalom  and  AdMophel— Character  of  Sliaftesbury.— j.  G.  L. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  193 

answered  with  becoming  caution,  saying,  however,  that  "  he  was  not 
present  at  the  time."  There  are  also  new  remembrances.  A  separate 
garden,  laid  out  as  a  playground  for  the  royal  children,  is  called  II 
Trocadero,1  from  the  siege  of  Cadiz  [1823].  But  the  Bourbons  should 
not  take  military  ground — it  is  firing  a  pop-gun  in  answer  to  a  battery 
of  cannon. 

All  within  the  house  is  changed.  Every  trace  of  Nap.  or  his  reign 
totally  done  away,  as  if  traced  in  sand  over  which  the  tide  has  passed. 
Moreau  and  Pichegru's  portraits  hang  in  the  royal  ante-chamber.  The 
former  has  a  mean  look ;  the  latter  has  been  a  strong  and  stern-look- 
ing man.  I  looked  at  him,  and  thought  of  his  death-struggles.  In 
the  guard-room  were  the  heroes  of  La  Vendee — Charette  with  his 
white  bonnet,  the  two  La  Rochejacqueleins,  Lescure,  in  an  attitude  of 
prayer,  Stofflet,  the  gamekeeper,  with  others. 

We  dined  at  Auteuil.  Mrs.  Drummond,  formerly  the  beautiful 
Cecilia  Telfer,  has  lost  her  looks,  but  kept  her  kind  heart.  On  our 
return,  went  to  the  Italian  opera,  and  saw  Figaro.  Anne  liked  the 
music ;  to  me  it  was  all  caviare.  A  Mr. dined  with  us ;  sensi- 
ble, liberal  in  his  politics,  but  well  informed  and  candid. 

November  3. — Sat  to  Mad.  Mirbel — Spencer  at  breakfast.  Went 
out  and  had  a  long  interview  with  Marshal  Macdonald,  the  purport  of 
which  I  have  put  down  elsewhere.  Visited  Princess  Galitzin,  and  also 
Cooper,  the  American  novelist.  This  man,  who  has  shown  so  much 
genius,  has  a  good  deal  of  the  manner,  or  want  of  manner,  peculiar  to 
his  countrymen.2  He  proposed  to  me  a  mode  of  publishing  in  Amer- 
ica by  entering  the  book  as  [the]  property  of  a  citizen.  I  will  think 
of  this.  Every  little  helps,  as  the  tod  says,  when,  etc.  At  night  at 
the  Theatre  de  Madame,  where  we  saw  two  petit  pieces,  Le  Mariage  de 
Raison  and  Le  plus  beau  jour  de  ma  vie — both  excellently  played.  Af- 
terwards at  Lady  Granville's  rout,  which  was  as  splendid  as  any  I  ever 
saw — and  I  have  seen  beaucoup  dans  ce  genre.  A  great  number  of  la- 
dies of  the  first  rank  were  present,  and  if  honeyed  words  from  pretty 
lips  could  surfeit,  I  had  enough  of  them.  One  can  swallow  a  great 
deal  of  whipped  cream,  to  be  sure,  and  it  does  not  hurt  an  old  stom- 
ach. 

November^. — Anne  goes  to  sit  to  Mad.  Mirbel.    I  called  after  ten, 

1  The  name  has  since  been  bestowed  on  the  giving,  as  a  reason  for  his  silence,  the  words  of 
high  ground  on  the  bank  of  the  Seine,  on  which  Dr.  Johnson  regarding  his  meeting  with  George 
was  built  the  Palace  in  connection  with  the  In-  in. :  "  It  was  not  for  me  to  bandy  compliments 
ternational  Exhibition  of  1878.  with  my  sovereign."  These  two  "lions"  met 

on  four  occasions,  viz.,  on  the  3d,  4th,  and  6th 
November,  Scott  leaving  Paris  next  day. 


2  It  should  be  noted  that  Scott  wrote  "man 


ner"  not  "manners,"  as  in  all  previous  edi 


er  the  attempt  was  made  is  unknown,  but  it  is 


amusing  to  see  one  cause  of  Scott's  hesitation 


Of  this  interview,  Cooper  is  said  to  have  re-  amusing  «»  o^o  uuo  v  ,m.-<u  ui  own,o  uo»iu»inuu 

corded  in  after  years  that  Scott  was  so  obliging  was  the  fear  that  the  American  public  would 

as  to  make  him  a  number  of  flattering  speech-  not  get  his  works  at  the  low  prices  to  which 

es,  which,  however,  he  did  not  repay  in  kind.  they  had  been  accustomed. 
13 


194  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

Mr.  Cooper  and  Gallois  having  breakfasted  with  me.  The  former 
seems  quite  serious  in  desiring  the  American  attempt.  I  must,  how- 
ever, take  care  not  to  give  such  a  monopoly  as  to  prevent  the  Ameri- 
can public  from  receiving  the  works  at  the  prices  they  are  accustomed 
to.  I  think  I  may  as  well  try  if  the  thing  can  be  done. 

After  ten  I  went  with  Anne  to  the  Tuileries,  where  we  saw 
the  royal  family  pass  through  the  Glass  Gallery  as  they  went  to 
Chapel.  We  were  very  much  looked  at  in  our  turn,  and  the  King, 
on  passing  out,  did  me  the  honour  to  say  a  few  civil  words,  which 
produced  a  great  sensation.  Mad.  la  Dauphine  and  Mad.  de  Berri 
curtsied,  smiled,  and  looked  extremely  gracious ;  and  smiles,  bows, 
and  curtsies  rained  on  us  like  odours,  from  all  the  courtiers  and 
court  ladies  of  the  train.  We  were  conducted  by  an  officer  of  the 
Royal  Gardes  du  Corps  to  a  convenient  place  in  chapel,  where  wo 
had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  grand  mass  performed  with  excellent 
music. 

I  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  King  and  royal  family.  The  King  is 
the  same  in  age  as  I  knew  him  in  youth  at  Holyrood  House — debonair 
and  courteous  in  the  highest  degree.  Mad.  Dauphine  resembles  very 
much  the  prints  of  Marie  Antoinette,  in  the  profile  especially.  She  is 
not,  however,  beautiful,  her  features  being  too  strong,  but  they  an- 
nounce a  great  deal  of  character,  and  the  princess  whom  Bonaparte 
used  to  call  the  man  of  the  family.  She  seemed  very  attentive  to  her 
devotions.  The  Duchess  of  Berri  seemed  less  immersed  in  the  cere- 
mony, and  yawned  once  or  twice.  She  is  a  lively-looking  blonde — 
looks  as  if  she  were  good-humoured  and  happy,  by  no  means  pretty, 
and  has  a  cast  with  her  eyes ;  splendidly  adorned  with  diamonds,  how- 
ever. After  this  gave  Mad.  Mirbel  a  sitting,  where  I  encountered  le 
general,  her  uncle,1  who  was  chef  de  Vetat  major  to  Bonaparte.  He 
was  very  communicative,  and  seemed  an  interesting  person,  by  no 
means  over  much  prepossessed  in  favour  of  his  late  master,  whom  he 
judged  impartially,  though  with  affection. 

We  came  home  and  dined  in  quiet,  having  refused  all  tempta- 
tions to  go  out  in  the  evening ;  this  on  Anne's  account  as  well  as  my 
own.  It  is  not  quite  gospel,  though  Solomon  says  it — the  eye  can  be 
tired  with  seeing,  whatever  he  may  allege  in  the  contrary.  And 
then  there  are  so  many  compliments.  I  wish  for  a  little  of  the  old 
Scotch  causticity.  I  am  something  like  the  bee  that  sips  treacle. 

November  5. — I  believe  I  must  give  up  my  Journal  till  I  leave 
Paris.  The  French  are  literally  outrageous  in  their  civilities — bounce 
in  at  all  hours,  and  drive  one  half  mad  with  compliments.  I  am  un- 
gracious not  to  be  so  entirely  thankful  as  I  ought  to  this  kind  and 
merry  people.  We  breakfasted  with  Mad.  Mirbel,  where  were  the 
Dukes  of  Fitz-James,  and,  I  think,  Duras,"  goodly  company — but  all's 

1  General  Monthion.  and  Duras  was  related  to  Fevershatn.  James's 

general  at  Sedgemoor.     Both  died  in  the  same 
a  Fitz-James  was  great-grandson  of  James  11. ,      year,  1835. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  195 

one  for  that.  I  made  rather  an  impatient  sitter,  wishing  to  talk  much 
more  than  was  agreeable  to  Madame.  Afterwards  we  went  to  the 
Champs  Elysees,  where  a  balloon  was  let  off,  and  all  sorts  of  frolics 
performed  for  the  benefit  of  the  bons  yens  de  Paris — besides  stuffing 
them  with  victuals.  I  wonder  how  such  a  civic  festival  would  go  off 
in  London  or  Edinburgh,  or  especially  in  Dublin.  To  be  sure,  they 
would  not  introduce  their  shillelahs !  But  in  the  classic  taste  of  the 
French,  there  were  no  such  gladiatorial  doings.  To  be  sure,  they  have 
a  natural  good-humour  and  gaiety  which  inclines  them  to  be  pleased 
with  themselves,  and  everything  about  them. 

We  dined  at  the  Ambassador's,  where  was  a  large  party,  Lord 
Morpeth,  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  and  others — all  were  very  kind. 
Pozzo  di  Borgo  there,  and  disposed  to  be  communicative.  A  large 
soiree.  Home  at  eleven.  These  hours  are  early,  however. 

November  6. — Cooper  came  to  breakfast,  but  we  were  obsedes  par- 
tout.  Such  a  number  of  Frenchmen  bounced  in  successively,  and  ex- 
ploded, I  mean  discharged,  their  compliments,  that  I  could  hardly  find 
an  opportunity  to  speak  a  word,  or  entertain  Mr.  Cooper  at  all.  After 
this  we  sat  again  for  our  portraits.  Mad.  Mirbel  took  care  not  to 
have  any  one  to  divert  my  attention,  but  I  contrived  to  amuse  myself 
with  some  masons  finishing  a  facade  opposite  to  me,  who  placed  their 
stones,  not  like  Inigo  Jones,  but  in  the  most  lubberly  way  in  the 
world,  with  the  help  of  a  large  wheel,  and  the  application  of  strength 
of  hand.  John  Smith  of  Darnick,  and  two  of  his  men,  would  have 
done  more  with  a  block  and  pulley  than  the  whole  score  of  them. 
The  French  seem  far  behind  in  machinery. — We  are  almost  eaten  up 
with  kindness,  but  that  will  have  its  end.  I  have  had  to  parry  several 
presents  of  busts,  and  so  forth.  The  funny  thing  was  the  airs  of  my 
little  friend.  We  had  a  most  affectionate  parting — wet,  wet  cheeks 
on  the  lady's  side.1  The  pebble-hearted  cur  shed  as  few  tears  as  Crab 
of  dogged  memory. 9 

Went  to  Galignani's,  where  the  brothers,  after  some  palaver, 
offered  me  £105  for  the  sheets  of  Napoleon,  to  be  reprinted  at  Paris 
in  English.  I  told  them  I  would  think  of  it.  I  suppose  Treutteland 
Wurtz  had  apprehended  something  of  this  kind,  for  they  write  me 
that  they  had  made  a  bargain  with  my  publisher  (Cadell,  I  suppose) 
for  the  publishing  of  my  book  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  I  must  look 
into  this. 

Dined  with  Marshal  Macdonald  and  a  splendid  party ;'  amongst 
others,  Marshal  Marmont — middle  size,  stout-made,  dark  complexion, 
and  looks  sensible.  The  French  hate  him  much  for  his  conduct  in 

1  Madame  Mirbel.  who  painted  Scott  at  this  has  been  engraved  at  least  once — byJ.  T.Wedg- 

time,  continued  to  be  a  favourite  artist  with  wood. 

the  French  (Bonapartist,  Bourbon,  and  Orlean-          2  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  Act  n.  Sc.  3. — 

ist)   for  the  next  twenty  years.     Among  her  j.  G.  L. 

latest  sitters  (1841)  was  Scott's  angry  corre-          s  The  Marshal  had  visited  Scotland  in  1825 — 

-spondent  of  four  months  later — General  Gour-  and  Scott  saw  a  good  deal  of  him  under  the 

gaud.     Madame  Mirbel  died  in  1849.     The  por-  roof  of  his  kinsman,  Mr.  Macdonald  Buchanan, 

trait  alluded  to  was  probably  a  miniature  which  — j.  o.  L. 


196  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

1814,  but  it  is  only  making  him  the  scape-goat.  Also,  I  saw  Mons. 
de  Mole,  but  especially  the  Marquis  de  Lauriston,  who  received  me 
most  kindly,  lie  is  personally  like  my  cousin  Colonel  Russell.  I 
learned  that  his  brother,  Louis  Law,1  my  old  friend,  was  alive,  and  the 
father  of  a  large  family.  I  was  most  kindly  treated,  and  had  my 
vanity  much  flattered  by  the  men  who  had  acted  such  important  parts 
talking  to  me  in  the  most  frank  manner. 

In  the  evening  to  Princess  Galitzin,  where  were  a  whole  covey  of 
Princesses  of  Russia  arrayed  in  tartan  !  with  music  and  singing  to 
boot.  The  person  in  whom  I  was  most  interested  was  Mad.  de 
Boufflers,"  upwards  of  eighty,  very  polite,  very  pleasant,  and  with  all 
the  agremens  of  a  French  Court  lady  of  the  time  of  Mad.  Sevigne,  or 
of  the  correspondent  rather  of  Horace  Walpole.  Cooper  was  there, 
so  the  Scotch  and  American  lions  took  the  field  together. — Home, 
and  settled  our  affairs  to  depart. 

November  7. — Off  at  seven  ;  breakfasted  at  Beaumont,  and  pushed 
on  to  Airaines.  This  being  a  forced  march,  we  had  bad  lodgings, 
wet  wood,  uncomfortable  supper,  damp  beds,  and  an  extravagant 
charge.  I  was  never  colder  in  my  life  than  when  I  waked  with  the 
sheets  clinging  round  me  like  a  shroud. 

November  8. — We  started  at  six  in  the  morning,  having  no  need 
to  be  called  twice,  so  heartily  was  I  weary  of  my  comfortless  couch. 
Breakfasted  at  Abbeville ;  then  pushed  on  to  Boulogne,  expecting  to 
find  the  packet  ready  to  start  next  morning,  and  so  to  have  had  the 
advantage  of  the  easterly  tide.  But,  lo  ye  !  the  packet  was  not  to 
sail  till  next  day.  So  after  shrugging  our  shoulders — being  the  sol- 
ace a  la  mode  de  France — and  recruiting  ourselves  with  a  pullet  and 
a  bottle  of  Chablis  a  la  mode  d'Angleterre^vfQ  set  off  for  Calais  after 
supper,  and  it  was  betwixt  three  and  four  in  the  morning  before  we 
got  to  Dessein's,  when  the  house  was  full,  or  reported  to  be  so.  We 
could  only  get  two  wretched  brick-paved  garrets,  as  cold  and  moist  as 
those  of  Airaines,  instead  of  the  comforts  which  we  were  received 
with  at  our  arrival.  But  I  was  better  prepared.  Stripped  off  the 
sheets,  and  lay  down  in  my  dressing-gown,  and  so  roughed  it  out — 
tant  bien  que  mal, 

J  Lauriston,  the  ancient  seat  of  the  Laws,  so  Boufflers],  the  correspondent  not  only  of  Wai- 
famous  in  French  history,  is  very  near  Edin-  pole,  but  of  David  Hume,  must  have  been 
burgh,  and  the  estate  was  in  their  possession  nearer  a  hundred  than  eighty  years  of  age  at 
at  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  Two  or  three  this  date,  if  we  are  to  believe  the  Bingraphie 
cadets  of  the  family  were  of  the  first  emigra-  Universelle,  which  gives  1724  as  the  date  of  her 
tion,  and  one  of  them  (M.  Louis  I*iw)  was  a  birth.  It  does  not  record  her  death.  It  is 
frequent  guest  of  the  Poet's  father,  and  after-  known  that  she  took  refuge  in  England  during 
wards  corresponded  during  many  years  with  the  Revolution;  but  Count  Paul  de  Remusat, 
himself.  I  am  not  sure  whether  it  was  M.  who  has  been  consulted  on  the  subject,  has 
Louis  Law  whose  French  designation  so  much  kindly  pointed  out  that  the  lady  of  whom  Scott 
amused  the  people  of  Edinburgh.  One  brother  speaks  must  have  been  the  widow  of  the  Chev- 
of  the  Marquis  de  Lauriston,  however,  was  alier  de  Boufflers-Remencourt,  known  by  his 
styled  Le  Chevalier  de.  Mutton-hole,  this  being  poems  and  stories.  Her  maiden  name  was 
the  name  of  a  village  on  the  Scotch  property.  Jean  de  Manville,  and  her  first  husband  was  a 
— j.  a.  L.  de  Comte  de  Sabran.  She  died  in  1827. — See 

a  The  Madame  de  Boufflers  best  known  to  Correspondance  in&iite  de  la  Comtesse  de  Sabran, 

the  world  [Hippolyte  de  Saujon  Comtesse  de  Paris,  8vo,  1875. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  197 

November  9. — At  four  in  the  morning  we  were  called  ;  at  six  we 
got  on  board  the  packet,  where  I  found  a  sensible  and  conversible 
man — a  very  pleasant  circumstance.  The  day  was  raw  and  cold,  the 
wind  and  tide  surly  and  contrary,  the  passage  slow,  and  Anne,  con- 
trary to  her  wont,  excessively  sick.  We  had  little  trouble  at  the 
Custom  House,  thanks  to  the  secretary  of  the  Embassy,  Mr.  Jones,  who 
gave  me  a  letter  to  Mr.  Ward.  [At  Dover]  Mr.  Ward  came  with  the 
Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  castle,  and  wished  us  to  visit  that  ancient 
fortress.  I  regretted  much  that  our  time  was  short,  and  the  weather 
did  not  admit  of  our  seeing  views,  so  we  could  only  thank  the  gentle- 
men in  declining  their  civility. 

The  castle,  partly  ruinous,  seems  to  have  been  very  fine.  The 
Cliff,  to  which  Shakespeare  gave  his  immortal  name,  is,  as  all  the 
world  knows,  a  great  deal  lower  than  his  description  implies.  Our 
Dover  friends,  justly  jealous  of  the  reputation  of  their  cliff,  impute  this 
diminution  of  its  consequence  to  its  having  fallen  in  repeatedly  since 
the  poet's  time.  I  think  it  more  likely  that  the  imagination  of  Shake- 
speare, writing  perhaps  at  a  period  long  after  he  may  have  seen  the 
rock,  had  described  it  such  as  he  conceived  it  to  have  been.  Besides, 
Shakespeare  was  born  in  a  flat  country,  and  Dover  Cliff  is  at  least  lofty 
enough  to  have  suggested  the  exaggerated  features  to  his  fancy.  At 
all  evenls,  it  has  maintained  its  reputation  better  than  the  Tarpeian 
Rock ; — no  man  could  leap  from  it  and  live. 

Left  Dover  after  a  hot  luncheon  about  four  o'clock,  and  reached 
London  at  half -past  three  in  the  morning.  So  adieu  to  la  belle  France, 
and  welcome  merry  England.1 

[Pall  Mall,]  November  10. — Ere  I  leave  la  belle  France,  however, 
it  is  fit  I  should  express  my  gratitude  for  the  unwontedly  kind  re- 
ception which  I  met  with  at  all  hands.  It  would  be  an  unworthy 
piece  of  affectation  did  I  not  allow  that  I  have  been  pleased — highly 
pleased  —  to  find  a  species  of  literature  intended  only  for  my  own 
country  has  met  such  an  extensive  and  favourable  reception  in  a  for- 
eign land  where  there  was  so  mucli  a  priori  to  oppose  its  progress. 

For  my  work  I  think  I  have  done  a  good  deal ;  but,  above  all,  I 
have  been  confirmed  strongly  in  the  impressions  I  had  previously 
formed  of  the  character  of  Nap.,  and  may  attempt  to  draw  him  with 
a  firmer  hand. 

The  succession  of  new  people  and  unusual  incidents  has  had  a 
favourable  effect  [on  my  mind],  which  was  becoming  rutted  like  an 
ill-kept  highway.  My  thoughts  have  for  some  time  flowed  in  another 
and  pleasanter  channel  than  through  the  melancholy  course  into  which 
my  solitary  and  deprived  state  had  long  driven  them,  and  which  gave 
often  pain  to  be  endured  without  complaint,  and  without  sympathy. 
"  For  this  relief,"  as  Francisco  says  in  Hamlet,  "  much  thanks." 


1  Readers  who  may  wish  to  compare  with      1815  will  find  a  brilliant  record  of  the  latter  in 
the  visit  of  1826  Scott's  impressions  of  Paris  in      Paul's  Letters^  xii.-xvi. 


198  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

To-day  I  visited  the  public  offices,  and  prosecuted  my  researches. 
Left  inquiries  for  the  Duke  of  York,  who  has  recovered  from  a  most 
desperate  state.  His  legs  had  been  threatened  with  mortification  ; 
but  he  was  saved  by  a  critical  discharge ;  also  visited  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  Lord  Melville,  and  others,  besides  the  ladies  in  Piccadilly. 
Dined  and  spent  the  evening  quietly  in  Pall  Mall. 

November  11. — Croker  came  to  breakfast,  and  we  were  soon  after 
joined  by  Theodore  Hook,  alias  "  John  Bull "  ;'  he  has  got  as  fat  as  the 
actual  monarch  of  the  herd.  Lockhart  sat  still  with  us,  and  we  had, 
as  Gil  Bias  says,  a  delicious  morning,  spent  in  abusing  our  neighbours, 
at  which  my  three  neighbours  are  no  novices  any  more  than  I  am  my- 
self, though  (like  Puss  in  Boots,  who  only  caught  mice  for  his  amuse- 
ment) I  am  only  a  chamber  counsel  in  matters  of  scandal.  The  fact 
is,  I  have  refrained,  as  much  as  human  frailty  will  permit,  from  all 
satirical  composition.  Here  is  an  ample  subject  for  a  little  black- 
balling in  the  case  of  Joseph  Hume,  the  great  ^Economist,  who  has 
[managed]  the  Greek  loan  so  egregiously.  I  do  not  lack  personal 
provocation  (see  13th  March  last),  yet  I  won't  attack  him — at  present 
at  least — but  qu'il  se  garde  de  moi : 

"I'm  not  a  king,  nor  nae  sic  thing, 

My  word  it  may  not  stand ; 

And  Joseph  may  a  buffet  bide, 

Come  he  beneath  my  brand." 

At  dinner  we  had  a  little  blow-out  on  Sophia's  part :  Lord  Dud- 
ley, Mr.  Hay,  Under  Secretary  of  State  [Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  etc.]. 
Mistress  (as  she  now  calls  herself)  Joanna  Baillie,  and  her  sister,  came 
in  the  evening.  The  whole  went  off  pleasantly. 

November  12. — Went  to  sit  to  Sir  T.  L.  to  finish  the  picture  for 
his  Majesty,  which  every  one  says  is  a  very  fine  one.  I  think  so  my- 
self ;  and  wonder  how  Sir  Thomas  has  made  so  much  out  of  an  old 
weather-beaten  block.  But  I  believe  the  hard  features  of  old  Dons 
like  myself  are  more  within  the  compass  of  the  artist's  skill  than  the 

>  A  Sunday  newspaper  started  in  1820,  to  a  nobleman  called  upon  him,  and  asked    if 

advocate  the  cause  of  George  iv.,  and  to  vilify  he  could  find  him  in  Edinburgh  some  clever 

the  Queen  and  her  friends,  male  and  female.  fellow  to  undertake  the  editorship  of  a  paper 

The  first  number  was  published  on  December  about  to  be  established.    Sir  Walter  suggested 

17th,  and  "  told  at  once  from  the  convulsed  that  his  Lordship  need  not  go  so  far  a-fleld, 

centre   to    the   extremity  of  the   Kingdom.  described  Hook's  situation,  and  the  impression 

There  was  talent  of  every  sort  in  the  paper  he  had  received  of  him  from  his  table  talk,  and 

that  could  have  been  desired  or  devised  for  his  Magazine,  the  Arcadian.    This  was  all  that 

such  a  purpose.     It  seemed  as  if  a  legion  of  occurred,  but  when,  towards  the  end  of  the 

sarcastic  devils  had  brooded  in  Synod  over  the  year,  John  Bull  electrified  London,  Sir  Walter 

elements  of  withering  derision."    Hook,  how-  confessed  that  he  could  not  help  fancying  that 

ever,  was  the  master  spirit,  the  majority  of  his  mentioning  this  man's  name  had  its  conse- 

the  lampoons  in  prose,  and  all  the  original  po-  quences. 

etry  in  the  early  volumes  from  the  "Hunting          Hook,  in  spite  of  his  £2000  per  annum  for 

the  Hare,"  were  from  his  own  pen,  except,  several  years  from  John  Bull,  and  large  prices 

perhaps,  "Michael's  Dinner,"  which  has  been  received  for  his  novels,  died  in  poverty  in  1841, 

laid  at  Canning's  door.  a  prematurely  old  man.     His  sad  story  may  be 

Oddly  enough  Scott  appears  to  have  been  the  read  in  a  most  powerful  sketch  in  the  Quar- 

indirect  means  of  placing  Hook  in  the  editorial  terly  Review,  attributed  to  Mr.  Lockhart. 
chair.   When  he  was  in  London,  in  April,  1820, 


1826.]  JOURNAL  199 

lovely  face  and  delicate  complexion  of  females.  Came  home  after  a 
heavy  shower.  I  had  a  long  conversation  about  — : —  with  Lock- 
hart.  All  that  was  whispered  is  true — a  sign  how  much  better  our 
domestics  are  acquainted  with  the  private  affairs  of  our  neighbours 
than  we  are.  A  dreadful  tale  of  incest  and  seduction,  and  nearly  of 
blood  also — horrible  beyond  expression  in  its  complications  and 
events — "And  yet  the  end  is  not ;" — and  this  man  was  amiable,  and 
seemed  the  soul  of  honour — laughed,  too,  and  was  the  soul  of  society. 
It  is  a  mercy  our  own  thoughts  are  concealed  from  each  other.  Oh  !  if, 
at  our  social  table,  we  could  see  what  passes  in  each  bosom  around, 
we  would  seek  dens  and  caverns  to  shun  human  society  !  To  see  the 
projector  trembling  for  his  falling  speculations  ;  the  voluptuary  rue- 
ing  the  event  of  his  debauchery ;  the  miser  wearing  out  his  soul  for 
the  loss  of  a  guinea — all — all  bent  upon  vain  hopes  and  vainer  regrets 
— we  should  not  need  to  go  to  the  hall  of  the  Caliph  Vathek  to  see 
men's  hearts  broiling  under  their  black  veils.1  Lord  keep  us  from 
all  temptation,  for  we  cannot  be  our  own  shepherd  ! 

We  dined  to-day  at  Lady  Stafford's  [at  West-hill].2  Lord  S.  looks 
very  poorly,  but  better  than  I  expected.  No  company,  excepting 
Sam  Rogers  and  Mr.  Grenville, ' — the  latter  is  better  known  by  the 
name  of  Tom  Grenville — a  very  amiable  and  accomplished  man,  whom 
1  knew  better  about  twenty  years  since.  Age  has  touched  him,  as  it 
has  doubtless  affected  me.  The  great  lady  received  us  with  the  most 
cordial  kindness,  and  expressed  herself,  I  am  sure,  sincerely,  desirous 
to  be  of  service  to  Sophia. 

November  13. — I  consider  Charles's  business  as  settled  by  a  pri- 
vate intimation  which  I  had  to  that  effect  from  Sir  W.  K. ;  so  I  need 
negotiate  no  further,  but  wait  the  event.  Breakfasted  at  home,  and 
somebody  with  us,  but  the  whirl  of  visits  so  great  that  I  have  already 
forgot  the  party.  Lockhart  and  I  dined  at  an  official  person's,  where 
there  was  a  little  too  much  of  that  sort  of  flippant  wit,  or  rather 
smartness  which  becomes  the  parochial  Joe  Miller  of  boards  and 
offices.  You  must  not  be  grave,  because  it  might  lead  to  improper 
discussions ;  and  to  laugh  without  a  joke  is  a  hard  task.  Your  pro- 
fessed wags  are  treasures  to  this  species  of  company.  Gil  Bias  was 
right  in  censuring  the  literary  society  of  his  friend  Fabricio ;  but 
nevertheless  one  or  two  of  the  mess  would  greatly  have  improved  the 
conversation  of  his  Commis. 

Went  to  poor  Lydia  White's,  and  found  her  extended  on  a  couch, 
frightfully  swelled,  unable  to  stir,  rouged,  jesting,  and  dying.  She 
has  a  good  heart,  and  is  really  a  clever  creature,  but  unhappily,  or 
rather  happily,  she  has  set  up  the  whole  staff  of  her  rest  in  keeping 
literary  society  about  her.  The  world  has  not  neglected  her.  It  is 

1  See  Beckford's  Vathek,  Hall  of  Eblis.  the  satisfaction  they  must  have  given  him." 

"  Lady  Stafford  says:  "  We  were  so  lucky  as  — Sharpe's  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  379. 

to  have  Sir  W.  Scott  here  for  a  day,  and  were  3  xhe  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Grenville  died  in 

glad  to  see  him  look  well,  and  though  per-  1846  at  the  age  of  ninety-one.    .He  left  his  no- 

fectly  unaltered  by  his  successes,  yet  enjoying  ble  collection  of  books  to  the  nation. 


200  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

not  always  so  bad  as  it  is  called.  She  can  always  make  up  her  soiree, 
arid  generally  has  some  people  of  real  talent  and  distinction.  She  is 
wealthy,  to  be  sure,  and  gives  petit  dinners,  but  not  in  a  style  to  carry 
the  point  a  force  cTargent.  In  her  case  the  world  is  good-natured, 
and  perhaps  it  is  more  frequently  so  than  is  generally  supposed. 

November  14. — We  breakfasted  at  honest  Allan  Cunningham's — 
honest  Allan — a  leal  and  true  Scotsman  of  the  old  cast.  A  man  of 
genius,  besides,  who  only  requires  the  tact  of  knowing  when  and 
where  to  stop,  to  attain  the  universal  praise  which  ought  to  follow  it. 
I  look  upon  the  alteration  of  "  It 's  hame  and  it 's  hame,"  and  "A  wet 
sheet  and  a  flowing  sea,"  as  among  the  best  songs  going.  His  prose 
has  often  admirable  passages ;  but  he  is  obscure,  and  overlays  his 
meaning,  which  will  not  do  now-a-days,  when  he  who  runs  must  read. 

Dined  at  Croker's,  at  Kensington,  with  his  family,  the  Speaker,1 
and  the  facetious  Theodore  Hook. 

We  came  away  rather  early,  that  Anne  and  I  might  visit  Mrs. 
Arbuthnot  to  meet  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  In  all  my  life  I  never 
saw  him  better.  He  has  a  dozen  of  campaigns  in  his  body — and 
tough  ones.  Anne  was  delighted  with  the  frank  manners  of  this 
unequalled  pride  of  British  war,  and  me  he  received  with  all  his  usu- 
al kindness.  He  talked  away  about  Bonaparte,  Russia,  and  France. 

November  15. — At  breakfast  a  conclave  of  medical  men  about 
poor  little  Johnnie  Lockhart.  They  give  good  words,  but  I  cannot 
help  fearing  the  thing  is  very  precarious,  and  I  feel  a  miserable  an- 
ticipation of  what  the  parents  are  to  undergo.  It  is  wrong,  however, 
to  despair.  I  was  myself  a  very  weak  child,  and  certainly  am  one  of 
the  strongest  men  of  my  age  in  point  of  constitution.  Sophia  and 
Anne  went  to  the  Tower,  I  to  the  Colonial  Office,  where  I  laboured 
hard. 

Dined  with  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  Anne  with  me,  who  could 
not  look  enough  at  the  vainqueur  du  vaingueur  de  la  terre.  The  party 
were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peel,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arbuthnot,*  Vesey  Fitzger- 
ald, Bankes,  and  Croker,  with  Lady  Bathurst  and  Lady  Georgina. 
One  gentleman  took  much  of  the  conversation,  and  gave  us,  with  un- 
necessary emphasis,  and  at  superfluous  length,  his  opinion  of  a  late 
gambling  transaction.  This  spoiled  the  evening.  I  am  sorry  for  the 

occurrence  though,  for  Lord is  fetlock  deep  in  it,  and  it  looks 

like  a  vile  bog.  This  misfortune,  with  the  foolish  incident  at  -  — , 
will  not  be  suffered  to  fall  to  the  ground,  but  will  be  used  as  a  coun- 
terpoise to  the  Greek  loan.  Peel  asked  me,  in  private,  my  opinion 
of  three  candidates  for  the  Scotch  gown,  and  I  gave  it  him  candidly. 
We  will  see  if  it  has  weight.3 

>  The  Right  Hon.  Charles  Manners  Button,  lington.    She  died  in  1838,  Mr.  Arbuthnot  in 

afterwards  Viscount  Canterbury.    He  died  in  1850. 

1845.  3  Sir  Walter  had  recommended  George  Crans- 

3  Mrs.  Arbuthnot  was  Harriet,  third  datigh-  toun,  his  early  friend,  one  of  the  brethren  of 

ter  of  the  Hon.  H.  Fane,  and  wife  of  Charles  the  mountain,  who  succeeded  Lord  Hermand, 

Arbuthnot,  a  great  friend  of  the  Duke  of  Wei-  and  took  his  seat  on  the  Scotch  Bench  before 


1826.]  JOURNAL  201 

I  begin  to  tire  of  my  gaieties ;  and  the  late  hours  and  constant 
feasting  disagree  with  me.  I  wish  for  a  sheep's  head  and  whisky 
toddy  against  all  the  French  cookery  and  champagne  in  the  world. 

Well,  I  suppose  I  might  have  been  a  Judge  of  Session  this  term — 
attained,  in  short,  the  grand  goal  proposed  to  the  ambition  of  a  Scot- 
tish lawyer.  It  is  better,  however,  as  it  is,  while,  at  least,  I  can  main 
tain  my  literary  reputation. 

I  had  some  conversation  to-day  with  Messrs.  Longman  and  Co. 
They  agreed  to  my  deriving  what  advantage  I  could  in  America,  and 
that  very  willingly. 

November  16. — Breakfasted  with  Rogers,  with  my  daughters  and 
Lockhart.  R.  was  exceedingly  entertaining,  in  his  dry,  quiet,  sarcastic 
manner.  At  eleven  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who  gave  me  a  bun- 
dle of  remarks  on  Bonaparte's  Russian  campaign,  written  in  his  car- 
riage during  his  late  mission  to  St.  Petersburg.1  It  is  furiously 
scrawled,  and  the  Russian  names  hard  to  distinguish,  but  it  shall  do 
me  yeoman's  service.  Then  went  to  Pentonville,  to  old  Mr.  Handley, 
a  solicitor  of  the  old  school,  and  manager  of  the  Devonshire  proper- 
ty. Had  an  account  of  the  claim  arising  on  the  estate  of  one  Mrs. 
Owen,  due  to  the  representatives  of  my  poor  wife's  mother.  He  was 
desperately  excursive,  and  spoke  almost  for  an  hour,  but  the  prospect 
of  £4000  to  my  children  made  me  a  patient  auditor.  Thence  I 
passed  to  the  Colonial  Office,  where  I  concluded  my  extracts.  [Lock- 
hart  and  I]  dined  with  Croker  at  the  Admiralty  au  grand  convert. 
No  less  than  five  Cabinet  Ministers  were  present — Canning,  Huskis- 
son,  Melville,  [Peel,]  and  Wellington,  with  sub-secretaries  by  the  bush- 
el. The  cheer  was  excellent,  but  the  presence  of  too  many  men  of 
distinguished  rank  and  power  always  freezes  the  conversation.  Each 
lamp  shines  brightest  when  placed  by  itself;  when  too  close,  they 
neutralise  each  other.2 

November  17. — My  morning  here  began  with  the  arrival  of  Ba- 
hauder  Jah ;  soon  after  Mr.  Wright  ;3  then  I  was  called  out  to  James 
Scott  the  young  painter.  I  greatly  fear  this  modest  and  amiable 
creature  is  throwing  away  his  time.  Next  came  an  animal  who  is 
hunting  out  a  fortune  in  Chancery,  which  has  lain  perdu  for  thirty 
years.  The  fellow,  who  is  in  figure  and  manner  the  very  essence  of 
the  creature  called  a  sloth,  has  attached  himself  to  this  pursuit  with 
the  steadiness  of  a  well-scented  beagle.  I  believe  he  will  actually 
get  the  prize. 

the  end  of  the  month.    The  appointment  sat-  War  in  Russia  in  1812,"  in  the  Despatches  ed- 

isfled  both  political  parties,  though  Cockburn  ited  by  his  Son  (Dec.  1825  to  May,  1827),  Mur- 

said  that  "his  removal  was  a  great  loss  to  the  ray,  1868,  vol.  i.  8vo,  pp.  1-53.     Sir   Walter 

bar  which  he  had  long  adorned,  and  where  he  Scott's  letter  to  the  Duke  on  the  subject  is 

had  the  entire  confidence  of  the  public."    An  given  at  p.  509  of  the  same  volume,  and  see 

admirable  sketch  of  Cranstoun  is  given  in  No.  this  Journal  under  Feb.  15, 1827. 

32  of  Peter's  Letters.    He  retired  in  1839,  and  2  In  returning  from  this  dinner  Sir  Walter 

died  at  Corehouse,  his  picturesque  seat  on  the  said,  "I  have  seen  some  of  these  great  men  at 

Clyde,  in  1850.  the  same  table  for  the  last  lime." — j.  o.  I,. 

i  This  striking  paper  was  afterwards  printed  3  Mr.  William   Wright,  Barrister,  Lincoln's 

iu  full  under  the  title,  "Memorandum  on  the  Inu.-rSee  Life,  vol.  viii.  p.  84. 


202  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

Sir  John  Malcolm  acknowledges  and  recommends  my  Persian  vis- 
itor Bruce. 

Saw  the  Duke  of  York.  The  change  on  H.R.II.  is  most  wonder- 
ful. From  a  big,  burly,  stout  man,  with  a  thick  and  sometimes  an 
inarticulate  mode  of  speaking,  he  has  sunk  into  a  thin-faced,  slender- 
looking  old  man,  who  seems  diminished  in  his  very  size.  I  could 
hardly  believe  I  saw  the  same  person,  though  I  was  received  with  his 
usual  kindness.  He  speaks  much  more  distinctly  than  formerly  ;  his 
complexion  is  clearer ;  in  short,  H.R.H.  seems,  on  the  whole,  more 
healthy  after  this  crisis  than  when  in  the  stall-fed  state,  for  such  it 
seemed  to  be,  in  which  I  remember  him.  God  grant  it !  his  life  is 
of  infinite  value  to  the  King  and  country — it  is  a  breakwater  behind 
the  throne. 

November  18. — Was  introduced  by  Rogers  to  Mad.  D'Arblay,  the 
celebrated  authoress  of  Evelina  and  Cecilia, — an  elderly  lady,  with 
no  remains  of  personal  beauty,  but  with  a  gentle  manner  and  a  pleas- 
ing expression  of  countenance.  She  told  me  she  had  wished  to  see 
two  persons — myself,  of  course,  being  one ;  the  other  George  Can- 
ning. This  was  really  a  compliment  to  be  pleased  with — a  nice  little 
handsome  pat  of  butter  made  up  by  a  neat-handed  Phillis1  of  a  dairy- 
maid, instead  of  the  grease,  fit  only  for  cart-wheels,  which  one  is 
dosed  with  by  the  ponnd. 

Mad.  D'Arblay  told  us  the  common  story  of  Dr.  Burney,  her  fa- 
ther, having  brought  home  her  own  first  work,  and  recommended  it 
to  her  perusal,  was  erroneous.  Her  father  was  in  the  secret  of  Eve- 
lina being  printed.  But  the  following  circumstances  may  have  given 
rise  to  the  story : — Dr.  Burney  was  at  Streatham  soon  after  the  pub- 
lication, where  he  found  Mrs.  Thrale  recovering  from  her  confine- 
ment, low  at  the  moment,  and  out  of  spirits.  While  they  were  talk- 
ing together,  Johnson,  who  sat  beside  in  a  kind  of  reverie,  suddenly 
broke  out,  "  You  should  read  this  new  work,  madam — you  should 
read  Evelina ;  every  one  says  it  is  excellent,  and  they  are  right." 
The  delighted  father  obtained  a  commission  from  Mrs.  Thrale  to 
purchase  his  daughter's  work,  and  retired  the  happiest  of  men. 
Mad.  D'Arblay  said  she  was  wild  with  joy  at  this  decisive  evidence 
of  her  literary  success,  and  that  she  could  only  give  vent  to  her  rapture 
by  dancing  and  skipping  round  a  mulberry-tree  in  the  garden.  She 
was  very  young  at  this  time.  I  trust  I  shall  see  this  lady  again. 
She  has  simple  and  apparently  amiable  manners,  with  quick  feelings. 

Dined  at  Mr.  Peel's  with  Lord  Liverpool,  Duke  of  Wellington, 
Croker,  Bankes,  etc.  The  conversation  very  good — Peel  taking  the 
lead  in  his  own  house,  which  he  will  not  do  elsewhere.  We  can- 
vassed the  memorable  criminal  case  of  Ashford*  Peel  almost  con- 

1  Milton's  VAUtgro.—  j.  a.  L.  the  law  was  abolished  in  1819.— See  Notet  and 

»  A  murder  committed  in  1817.    The  accused  Queries,  2d  series,  vol.  xi.  pp.  88,  259,  317,  and 

claimed  the  privilege  of  Wager  nf  Battle,  which  p.  431  for  a  curlousaccount  of  the  bibliography 

was  allowed  by  the  Court  lor  the  last  time,  as  of  this  very  singular  case. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  203 

vinced  of  the  man's  innocence.  Should  have  been  at  the  play,  but 
sat  too  late  at  Mr.  Peel's. 

So  ends  my  campaign  among  these  magnificoes  and  potent 
signiors,1  with  whom  I  have  found,  as  usual,  the  warmest  acceptation. 
I  wish  I  could  turn  a  little  of  my  popularity  amongst  them  to  Lock- 
hart's  advantage,  who  cannot  bustle  for  himself.  He  is  out  of  spirits 
just  now,  and  views  things  au  noir.  I  fear  Johnnie's  precarious  state 
is  the  cause. 

I  finished  my  sittings  to  Lawrence,  and  am  heartily  sorry  there 
should  be  another  picture  of  me  except  that  which  he  has  finished. 
The  person  is  remarkably  like,  and  conveys  the  idea  of  the  stout 
blunt  carle  that  cares  for  few  things,  and  fears  nothing.  He  has 
represented  the  author  as  .in  the  act  of  composition,  yet  has  effectu- 
ally discharged  all  affectation  from  the  manner  and  attitude.  He 
seems  pleased  with  it  himself.  He  dined  with  us  at  Peel's  yester- 
day, where,  by  the  way,  we  saw  the  celebrated  Chapeau  de  Paille, 
which  is  not  a  Chapeau  de  Paille  at  all. 

November  19. — Saw  this  morning  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Duke 
of  York ;  the  former  so  communicative  that  I  regretted  extremely 
the  length  of  time,*  but  have  agreed  on  a  correspondence  with  him. 
Trap  cFhonneur  pour  moi.  The  Duke  of  York  saw  me  by  appoint- 
ment. He  seems  still  mending,  and  spoke  of  state  affairs  as  a  high 
Tory.  Were  his  health  good,  his  spirit  is  as  strong  as  ever.  H.R.H. 
has  a  devout  horror  of  the  liberals.  Having  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, the  Chancellor,  and  (perhaps)  a  still  greater  person  on  his  side, 
he  might  make  a  great  fight  when  they  split,  as  split  they  will.  But 
Canning,  Huskisson,  and  a  mitigated  party  of  Liberaux  will  probably 
beat  them.  Canning's  will  and  eloquence  are  almost  irresistible.  But 
then  the  Church,  justly  alarmed  for  their  property,  which  is  plainly 
struck  at,  and  the  bulk  of  the  landed  interest,  will  scarce  brook  a 
mild  infusion  of  Whiggery  into  the  Administration.  Well,  time  will 
show. 

We  visited  our  friends  Peel,  Lord  Gwydyr,  Arbuthnot,  etc.,  and 
left  our  tickets  of  adieu.  In  no  instance,  during  my  former  visits  to 
London,  did  I  ever  meet  with  such  general  attention  and  respect  on 
all  sides. 

Lady  Louisa  Stuart  dined — also  Wright  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Christie. 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Hughes  came  in  the  evening ;  so  ended  pleasantly  our 
last  night  in  London. 

[Oxford,]  November  20. — Left  London  after  a  comfortable  break- 
fast, and  an  adieu  to  the  Lockhart  family.  If  I  had  had  but  com* 
fortable  hopes  of  their  poor,  pale,  prostrate  child,  so  clever  and  so 
interesting,  I  should  have  parted  easily  on  this  occasion,  but  these 
misgivings  overcloud  the  prospect.  We  reached  Oxford  by  six 
o'clock,  and  found  Charles  and  his  friend  young  Surtees  waiting  for 

1  Othello. — j.  o.  L.  gretted  not  having  seen  the  Duke  at  an  earlier 

a  Sir  Walter  no  doubt  means  that  he  re       period  of  his  historical  labours. — J.O.L. 


204  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

us,  with  a  good  fire  in  the  chimney,  and  a  good  dinner  ready  to  be 
placed  on  the  table.  We  had  struggled  through  a  cold,  sulky,  drizzly 
day,  which  deprived  of  all  charms  even  the  beautiful  country  near 
Henley.  So  we  came  from  cold  and  darkness  into  light  and  warmth 
and  society.  N.B. — We  had  neither  daylight  nor  moonlight  to  see 
the  view  of  Oxford  from  the  Maudlin  Bridge",  which  I  used  to  thinlj 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world. 

Upon  finance  I  must  note  that  the  expense  of  travelling  has 
mounted  high.  I  am  too  old  to  rough  it,  and  scrub  it,  nor  could  I 
have  saved  fifty  pounds  by  doing  so.  I  have  gained,  however,  in 
health,  spirits,  in  a  new  stock  of  ideas,  new  combinations,  and  new 
views.  My  self-consequence  is  raised,  I  hope  not  unduly,  by  the 
many  flattering  circumstances  attending  -my  reception  in  the  two 
capitals,  and  I  feel  confident  in  proportion.  In  Scotland  I  shall  find 
time  for  labour  and  for  economy. 

[Cheltenham,]  November  21. — Breakfasted  with  Charles  in  his 
chambers  [at  Brasenose],  where  he  had  everything  very  neat.  How 
pleasant  it  is  for  a  father  to  sit  at  his  child's  board !  It  is  like  an 
aged  man  reclining  under  the  shadow  of  the  oak  which  he  has  planted. 
My  poor  plant  has  some  storms  to  undergo,  but  were  this  expedition 
conducive  to  no  more  than  his  entrance  into  life  under  suitable  au- 
spices, I  should  consider  the  toil  and  the  expense  well  bestowed. 
We  then  sallied  out  to  see  the  lions — guides  being  Charles,  and 
friend  Surtees,  Mr.  John  Hughes,  young  Mackenzie  (Fitz-Colin),  and 
a  young  companion  or  two  of  Charles's.  Remembering  the  ecstatic 
feelings  with  which  I  visited  Oxford  more  than  twenty-five  years 
since,  I  was  surprised  at  the  comparative  indifference  with  which  I 
revisited  the  same  scenes.  Reginald  Heber,  then  composing  his 
Prize  Poem,  and  imping  his  wings  for  a  long  flight  of  honourable 
distinction,  is  now  dead  in  a  foreign  land — Hodgson  and  other  able 
men  all  entombed.  The  towers  and  halls  remain,  but  the  voices 
which  fill  them  are  of  modern  days.  Besides,  the  eye  becomes  sati- 
ated with  sights,  as  the  full  soul  loathes  the  honeycomb.  I  admired 
indeed,  but  my  admiration  was  void  of  the  enthusiasm  which  I  for- 
merly felt.  I  remember  particularly  having  felt,  while  in  the  Bod- 
leian, like  the  Persian  magician  who  visited  the  enchanted  library  in 
the  bowels  of  the  mountain,  and  willingly  suffered  himself  to  be  en- 
closed in  its  recesses,1  while  less  eager  sages  retired  in  alarm.  Now 
I  had  some  base  thoughts  concerning  luncheon,  which  was  most  mu- 
nificently supplied  by  Surtees  [at  his  rooms  in  University  College], 
with  the  aid  of  the  best  ale  I  ever  drank  in  my  life,  the  real  wine  of 
Ceres,  and  worth  that  of  Bacchus.  Dr.  Jenkyns,"  the  vice-chancellor, 
did  me  the  honour  to  call,  but  I  saw  him  not.  I  called  on  Charles 
Douglas  at  All-Souls,  and  had  a  chat  of  an  hour  with  him.* 

1  See  Weber's  Tales  of  the  East,  3  vols.  8vo,          2  Dr.  Richard  Jenkyns,  Master  of  Balliol  Col- 
Edin.  1812.    History  ofAvicene,  vol.  ii.  pp.  452-      lege.— j.  G.  L. 

467.        .  3  Charles  Douglas  succeeded   his   brother, 

Baron  Douglas  of  Douglas,  in  1844. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  205 

Before  three  set  out  for  Cheltenham,  a  long  and  uninteresting 
drive,  which  we  achieved  by  nine  o'clock.  My  sister-in-law  [Mrs. 
Thomas  Scott]  and  her  daughter  instantly  came  to  the  hotel,  and 
seem  in  excellent  health  and  spirits. 

November  22. — Breakfasted  and  dined  with  Mrs.  Scott,  and  leav- 
ing Cheltenham  at  seven,  pushed  on  to  Worcester  to  sleep. 

November  23. — Breakfasted  at  Birmingham,  and  slept  at  Maccles- 
field.  As  we  came  in  between  ten  and  eleven,  the  people  of  the  inn 
expressed  surprise  at  our  travelling  so  late,  as  the  general  distress  of 
the  manufacturers  has  rendered  many  of  the  lower  class  desperately 
outrageous.  The  inn  was  guarded  by  a  special  watchman,  who  alarm- 
ed us  by  giving  his  signal  of  turn  out,  but  it  proved  to  be  a  poor  de- 
serter who  had  taken  refuge  among  the  carriages,  and  who  was  re- 
claimed by  his  sergeant.  The  people  talk  gloomily  of  winter,  when 
the  distress  of  the  poor  will  be  increased. 

November  24. — Breakfasted  at  Manchester.  Ere  we  left,  the  sen- 
ior churchwarden  came  to  offer  us  his  services,  to  show  us  the  town, 
principal  manufactures,  etc.  We  declined  his  polite  offer,  pleading 
haste.  I  found  his  opinion  about  the  state  of  trade  more  agreeable 
than  I  had  ventured  to  expect.  He  said  times  were  mending  gradu- 
ally but  steadily,  and  that  the  poor-rates  were  decreasing,  of  which 
none  can  be  so  good  a  judge  as  the  churchwarden.  Some  months 
back  the  people  had  been  in  great  discontent  on  account  of  the  power 
engines,  which  they  conceived  diminished  the  demand  for  operative 
labour.  There  was  no  politics  in  their  discontent,  however,  and  at 
present  it  was  diminishing.  We  again  pressed  on — and  by  dint  of 
exertion  reached  Kendal  to  sleep ;  thus  getting  out  of  the  region  of 
the  stern,  sullen,  unwashed  artificers,  whom  you  see  lounging  sulkily 
along  the  streets  of  the  towns  in  Lancashire,  cursing,  it  would  seem 
by  their  looks,  the  stop  of  trade  which  gives  them  leisure,  and  the 
laws  which  prevent  them  employing  their  spare  time.  God's  justice 
is  requiting,  and  will  yet  further  requite  those  who  have  blown  up 
this  country  into  a  state  of  unsubstantial  opulence,  at  the  expense  of 
the  health  and  morals  of  the  lower  classes. 

November  25. — Took  two  pair  of  horses  over  the  Shap  Fells,  which 
are  covered  with  snow,  and  by  dint  of  exertion  reached  Penrith  to 
breakfast.  Then  rolled  on  till  we  found  our  own  horses  at  Hawick, 
and  returned  to  our  own  home  at  Abbotsford  about  three  in  the 
morning.  It  is  well  we  made  a  forced  march  of  about  one  hundred 
miles,  for  I  think  the  snow  would  have  stopped  us  had  we  lingered. 

[Abbotsford,]  November  26. — Consulting  my  purse,  found  my  good 
£60  diminished  to  Quarter  less  Ten.  In  purse  £8.  Naturally  re- 
flected how  much  expense  has  increased  since  I  first  travelled.  My 
uncle's  servant,  during  the  jaunts  we  made  together  while  I  was  a  boy, 
used  to  have  his  option  of  a  shilling  per  diem  for  board  wages,  and 
usually  preferred  it  to  having  his  charges  borne.  A  servant  nowadays, 
to  be  comfortable  on  the  road,  should  have  4s.  or  4s.  6d.  board  wages, 


206  JOURNAL  [Xov. 

which  before  1790  would  have  maintained  his  master.  But  if  this 
be  pitiful,  it  is  still  more  so  to  find  the  alteration  in  my  own  temper. 
When  young,  on  returning  from  such  a  trip  as  I  have  just  had,  my 
mind  would  have  loved  to  dwell  on  all  I  had  seen  that  was  rich 
and  rare,  or  have  been  placing,  perhaps  in  order,  the  various  additions 
with  which  I  had  supplied  my  stock  of  information — and  now,  like  a 
stupid  boy  blundering  over  an  arithmetical  question  half  obliterated 
on  his  slate,  I  go  stumbling  on  upon  the  audit  of  pounds,  shillings, 
and  pence.  Why,  the  increase  of  charge  I  complain  of  must  con- 
tinue so  long  as  the  value  of  the  thing  represented  by  cash  continues 
to  rise,  or  as  the  value  of  the  thing  representing  continues  to  decrease 
— let  the  economists  settle  which  is  the  right  way  of  expressing  the 
process  when  groats  turn  plenty  and  eggs  grow  dear — 

"  And  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone, 
The  increasing  charge  will  still  go  on, 
And  other  bards  shall  climb  these  hills, 
And  curse  your  charge,  dear  evening  bills." 

Well,  the  skirmish  has  cost  me  £200.  I  wished  for  information — 
and  I  have  had  to  pay  for  it.  The  information  is  got,  the  money  is 
spent,  and  so  this  is  the  only  mode  of  accounting  amongst  friends. 

I  have  packed  my  books,  etc.,  to  go  by  cart  to  Edinburgh  to-mor- 
row. I  idled  away  the  rest  of  the  day,  happy  to  find  myself  at  home, 
which  is  home,  though  never  so  homely.  And  mine  is  not  so  home- 
ly neither  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  have  seen  in  my  travels  none  I  liked  so 
well — fantastic  in  architecture  and  decoration  if  you  please — but  no 
real  comfort  sacrificed  to  fantasy.  "  Ever  gramercy  my  own  purse," 
saith  the  song ;'  "  Ever  gramercy  my  own  house,"  quoth  I. 

November  27. — We  set  off  after  breakfast,  but  on  reaching  Fushie 
Bridge  at  three,  found  ourselves  obliged  to  wait  for  horses,  all  being 
gone  to  the  smithy  to  be  roughshod  in  this  snowy  weather.  So  we 
stayed  dinner,  and  Peter,  coming  up  with  his  horses,  bowled  us  into 
town  about  eight.  Walter  came  and  supped  with  us,  which  diverted 
some  heavy  thoughts.  It  is  impossible  not  to  compare  this  return  to 
Edinburgh  with  others  in  more  happy  times.  But  we  should  rather 
recollect  under  what  distress  of  mind  I  took  up  my  lodgings  in  Mrs. 
Brown's  last  summer,  and  then  the  balance  weighs  deeply  on  the  fa- 
vourable side.  This  house  is  comfortable  and  convenient.1 

[Edinburgh^  November  28. — Went  to  Court  and  resumed  old  hab- 
its. Dined  with  Walter  and  Jane  at  Mrs.  Jobson's.  When  we  re- 
turned were  astonished  at  the  news  of 's  death,  and  the  manner 

of  it ;  a  quieter,  more  inoffensive,  mild,  and  staid  mind  I  never  knew. 
He  was  free  from  all  these  sinkings  of  the  imagination  which  render 
those  who  are  liable  to  them  the  victims  of  occasional  low  spirits. 

1  "But  of  all  fri«id«  in  field  or  town,  »  A  furnished  house  in  Walker  Street,  which 

Ever  grsmercy,"  <*«•  he  had  taken  for  the  winter  (No.  3). 


Damt  Juliana  Be 


1826.]  JOURNAL  207 

All  belonging  to  this  gifted,  as  it  is  called,  but  often  unhappy,  class, 
must  have  felt  at  times  that,  but  for  the  dictates  of  religion,  or  the 
natural  recoil  of  the  mind  from  the  idea  of  dissolution,  there  have 
been  times  when  they  would  have  been  willing  to  throw  away  life  as 

a  child  does  a  broken  toy.     But  poor  was  none  of  these:  he 

was  happy  in  his  domestic  relations ;  and  on  the  very  day  on  which 
the  rash  deed  was  committed  was  to  have  embarked  for  rejoining  his 
wife  and  child,  whom  I  so  lately  saw  anxious  to  impart  to  him  their 
improved  prospects. 

0  Lord,  what  are  we — lords  of  nature  ?     Why,  a  tile  drops  from 
a  housetop,  which  an  elephant  would  not  feel  more  than  the  fall  of  a 
sheet  of  pasteboard,  and  there  lies  his  lordship.    Or  something  of  in- 
conceivably minute  origin,  the  pressure  of  a  bone,  or  the  inflamma- 
tion of  a  particle  of  the  brain  takes  place,  and  the  emblem  of  the 
Deity  destroys  itself  or  some  one  else.     We  hold  our  health  and  our 
reason  on  terms  slighter  than  one  would  desire  were  it  in  their  choice 
to  hold  an  Irish  cabin. 

November  29. — Awaked  from  horrid  dreams  to  reconsideration  of 
the  sad  reality ;  he  was  such  a  kind,  obliging,  assiduous  creature.  I 
thought  he  came  to  my  bedside  to  expostulate  with  me  how  I  could 
believe  such  a  scandal,  and  I  thought  I  detected  that  it  was  but  a 
spirit  who  spoke,  by  the  paleness  of  his  look  and  the  blood  flowing 
from  his  cravat.  I  had  the  nightmare  in  short,  and  no  wonder. 

1  felt  stupefied  all  this  day,  but  wrote  the  necessary  letters  not- 
withstanding.    Walter,  Jane,  and  Mrs.  Jobson  dined  with  us — but  I 
could  not  gather  my  spirits.     But  it  is  nonsense,  and  contrary  to  my 
system,  which  is  of  the  stoic  school,  and  I  think  pretty  well  main- 
tained.    It  is  the  only  philosophy  I  know  or  can  practise,  but  it  can- 
not always  keep  the  helm. 

November  30. — I  went  to  the  Court,  and  on  my  return  set  in  order 
a  sheet  or  two  of  copy.  We  came  back  about  two — the  new  form  of 
hearing  counsel  makes  our  sederunt  a  long  one.  Dined  alone,  and 
worked  in  the  evening. 


DECEMBER 

December  I.1 — The  Court  again  very  long  in  its  sitting,  and  I 
obliged  to  remain  till  the  last.  This  is  the  more  troublesome,  as  in 
winter,  with  my  worn-out  eyes,  I  cannot  write  so  well  by  candle-light. 
Naboclish !  when  I  am  quite  blind,  good-night  to  you,  as  the  one-eyed 
fellow  said  when  a  tennis  ball  knocked  out  his  remaining  luminary. 
My  short  residue  of  time  before  dinner  was  much  cut  up  by  calls — 
all  old  friends,  too,  and  men  whom  I  love ;  but  this  makes  the  loss 
of  time  more  galling,  that  one  cannot  and  dare  not  growl  at  those  on 
whom  it  has  been  bestowed.  However,  I  made  out  two  hours  bet- 
ter than  I  expected.  I  am  now  once  more  at  my  oar,  and  I  will  row 
hard. 

December  2. — Returned  early  from  Court,  but  made  some  calls  by 
the  way.  Dined  alone  with  Anne,  and  meant  to  have  worked,  but — I 
don't  know  how — this  horrid  story  stuck  by  me,  so  I  e'en  read  Bou- 
tourlin's  account  of  the  Moscow  campaign  to  eschew  the  foul  fiend. 

December  3. — Wrote  five  pages  before  dinner.  Sir  Thomas  Bris- 
bane and  Sir  William  Arbuthnot  called,  also  John  A.  Murray.  Will- 
iam dined  with  us,  all  vivid  with  his  Italian  ideas,  only  Jane  besides. 
Made  out  five  pages,  I  think,  or  nearly. 

December  4. — Much  colded,  which  is  no  usual  complaint  of  mine, 
but  worked  about  five  leaves,  so  I  am  quite  up  with  my  task-work 
and  better.  But  my  books  from  Abbotsford  have  not  arrived.  Dined 
with  the  Koyal  Society  Club — about  thirty  members  present — too 
many  for  company.  After  coffee,  the  Society  were  like  Mungo  in 
The  Padlock."1  I  listened,  without  understanding  a  single  word,  to 
two  scientific  papers ;  one  about  the  tail  of  a  comet,  and  the  other 
about  a  chucky-stone ;  besides  hearing  Basil  Hall  describe,  and  see- 

1  During  the  winter  of  1826-7  Sir  Walter  snatches  in  the  course  of  his  meals;  and  to 
suffered  great  pain  (enough  to  have  disturbed  walk,  when  he  could  walk  at  all,  to  the  Par- 
effectually  any  other  man's  labours,  whether  liament  House,  and  back  again  through  the 
official  or  literary)  from  successive  attacks  of  Princes  Street  Gardens,  was  his  only  exercise 
rheumatism,  which  seems  to  have  been  fixed  and  his  only  relaxation.  Every  ailment,  of 
on  him  by  the  wet  sheets  of  one  of  his  French  whatever  sort,  ended  in  aggravating  his  lame- 
inns;  and  his  Diary  contains,  besides,  various  ness;  and,  perhaps,  the  severest  test  his  phi- 
indications  that  his  constitution  was  already  losophy  encountered  was  the  feeling  of  bodily 
shaking  under  the  fatigue  to  which  he  had  helplessness  that  from  week  to  week  crept 
subjected  it.  Formerly,  however  great  the  upon  him.  The  winter,  to  make  bad  worse, 
quantity  of  work  he  put  through  hia  hands,  was  a  very  cold  and  stormy  one.  The  growing 
his  evenings  were  almost  all  reserved  for  the  sluggishness  of  his  blood  showed  itself  in  chil- 
light  reading  of  an  elbow-chair,  or  the  enjoy-  blains,  not  only  on  the  feet  but  the  fingers, 
mentof  his  family  and  friends.  Now  he  seem-  and  his  handwriting  becomes  more  and  more 
cd  to  grudge  every  minute  that  was  not  spent  cramped  and  confused. — Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  58-9. 
at  his  desk.  The  little  that  he  read  of  new  a  See  BickerstafTs  Comic  Opera,  The  Pad- 
books,  or  for  mere  amusement,  was  done  by  lock. 


DEC.  1826.]  'JOURNAL  209 

ing  him  exhibit,  a  new  azimuth.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  cut  the  whole 
concern ;  and  yet  the  situation  is  honourable,  and,  as  Bob  Acres  says, 
one  should  think  of  their  honour.  We  took  possession  of  our  new 
rooms  on  the  Mound,  which  are  very  handsome  and  gentlemanlike. 

December  5. — Annoyed  with  the  cold  and  its  consequences  all 
night,  and  wish  I  could  shirk  the  Court  this  morning.  But  it  must 
not  be.  Was  kept  late,  and  my  cold  increased.  I  have  had  a  regu- 
lar attack  of  this  for  many  years  past  whenever  I  return  to  the  seden- 
tary life  and  heated  rooms  of  Edinburgh,  which  are  so  different  from 
the  open  air  and  constant  exercise  of  the  country.  Odd  enough  that 
during  cold  weather  and  cold  nocturnal  journeys  the  cold  never 
touched  me,  yet  I  am  no  sooner  settled  in  comfortable  quarters  and 
warm  well-aired  couches,  but  la  voila.  I  made  a  shift  to  finish  my 
task,  however,  and  even  a  leaf  more,  so  we  are  bang  up.  We  dined 
and  supped  alone,  and  I  went  to  bed  early. 

December  6. — A  bad  and  disturbed  night  with  fever,  headache, 
and  some  touch  of  cholera  morbus,  which  greatly  disturbed  my  slum- 
bers. But  I  fancy  Nature  was  scouring  the  gun  after  her  own  fash- 
ion. I  slept  little  till  morning,  and  then  lay  abed,  contrary  to  my 
wont,  until  half-past  nine  o'clock,  when  I  came  down  to  breakfast. 
Went  to  Court,  and  returned  time  enough  to  write  about  five  leaves. 
Dined  at  Skene's,  where  we  met  Lord  Elgin  and  Mr.  Stewart,  a  son 
of  Sir  M.  Shaw  Stewart,  whom  I  knew  and  liked,  poor  man.  Talked 
among  other  things  and  persons  of  Sir  J.  Campbell  of  Ardkinglas, 
who  is  now  here.1  He  is  happy  in  escaping  from  his  notorious  title 
of  Callander  of  Craigforth.  In  my  youth  he  was  a  black-leg  and 
swindler  of  the  first  water,  and  like  Pistol  did 

"  Somewhat  lean  to  cut-purse  of  quick  hand."  l 

He  was  obliged  to  give  up  his  estate  to  his  son  Colonel  Callander,  a 
gentleman  of  honour,  and  as  Dad  went  to  the  Continent  in  the  midst 
of  the  French  Revolution,  he  is  understood  to  have  gone  through 
many  scenes.  At  one  time,  Lord  Elgin  assured  us,  he  seized  upon 
the  island  of  Zante,  as  he  pretended,  by  direct  authority  from  the 
English  Government,  and  reigned  there  very  quietly  for  some  months, 
until,  to  appease  the  jealousy  of  the  Turks,  Lord  Elgin  despatched  a 
frigate  to  dethrone  the  new  sovereign.  Afterwards  he  traversed 
India  in  the  dress  of  a  fakir.  He  is  now  eighty  and  upwards. 

I  should  like  to  see  what  age  and  adventures  have  done  upon  him. 
I  recollect  him  a  very  handsome,  plausible  man.  Of  all  good  breed- 
ing, that  of  a  swindler  (of  good  education,  be  it  understood)  is  the 
most  perfect. 

1  This  gentleman  published  his  own  Memoirs  son's  suggestion,  and  by  Lord  Keith's  autbor- 

(2  vols.  8vo,  Lond.  1832).    They  read  like  chap-  ity.    Sir  James  died  in  1832  at  a  very  great 

ters  from  the  Arabian  Nights.      He  gives  a  age. 
Somewhat  different  account  of  his  occupation 

of  Zante,  which  he  says  was  effected  at  Nel-  »  IJenry  V.  Act  v.  Sc.  1. 

14 


210  JOURNAL  PEC. 

December  7. — Again  a  very  disturbed  night,  scarce  sleeping  an 
hour,  yet  well  when  I  rose  in  the  morning.  I  did  not  do  above  a  leaf 
to-day,  because  I  had  much  to  read.  But  I  am  up  to  one-fourth  of 
the  volume,  of  400  pages,  which  I  began  on  the  first  December  cur- 
rent; the  31st  must  and  shall  see  the  end  of  vol.  vi.  We  dined  alone. 
I  had  a  book  sent  me  by  a  very  clever  woman,  in  defence  of  what  she 
calls  the  rights  of  her  sex.  Clever,  though.  I  hope  she  will  pub- 
lish it. 

December  8. — Another  restless  and  deplorable  Knight — night  I 
should  say — faith,  either  spelling  will  suit.  Returned  early,  but  much 
done  up  with  my  complaint  and  want  of  sleep  last  night.  I  wrought 
however,  but  with  two  or  three  long  interruptions,  my  drowsiness 
being  irresistible.  Went  to  dine  with  John  Murray,  where  met  his 
brother  Henderland,  Jeffrey,  Harry  Cockburn,  Rutherf  urd,  and  others 
of  that  file.  Very  pleasant— capital  good  cheer  and  excellent  wine — 
much  laugh  and  fun. 

December  9. — I  do  not  know  why  it  is  that  when  I  am  with  a  party 
of  my  Opposition  friends,  the  day  is  often  merrier  than  when  with 
our  own  set.  Is  it  because  they  are  cleverer  ?  Jeffrey  and  Harry 
Cockburn  are,  to  be  sure,  very  extraordinary  men,  yet  it  is  not  owing 
to  that  entirely.  I  believe  both  parties  meet  with  the  feeling  of  some- 
thing like  novelty.  We  have  not  worn  out  our  jests  in  daily  contact. 
There  is  also  a  disposition  on  such  occasions  to  be  courteous,  and  of 
course  to  be  pleased.  Wrought  all  day,  but  rather  dawdled,  being 
abominably  drowsy.  I  fancy  it  is  bile,  a  visitor  I  have  not  had  this 
long  time. 

December  10.— An  uncomfortable  and  sleepless  night;  and  the 
lime  water  assigned  to  cure  me  seems  far  less  pleasant,  and  about  as 
inefficacious  as  lime  punch  would  be  in  the  circumstances.  I  felt 
main  stupid  the  whole  forenoon,  and  though  I  wrote  my  task,  yet  it 
was  with  great  intervals  of  drowsiness  and  fatigue  which  made  me, 
as  we  Scots  says,  dover  away  in  my  arm-chair.  Walter  and  Jane  came 
to  dinner,  also  my  Coz  Colonel  Russell,  and  above  and  attour1  James 
Ballantyne,  poor  fellow.  We  had  a  quiet  and  social  evening,  I  act- 
ing on  prescription.  Well,  I  have  seen  the  day — but  no  matter. 

December  11. — Slept  indifferent  well  with  a  feverish  halo  about 
me,  but  no  great  return  of  my  complaint.  It  paid  it  off  this  morn- 
ing, however,  but  the  difference  was  of  such  consequence  that  I  made 
an  ample  day's  work,  getting  over  six  pages,  besides  what  I  may  do. 
On  this,  the  llth  December,  I  shall  have  more  than  one-third  of  vol. 
vi.  finished,  which  was  begun  on  the  first  of  this  current  month. 
Dined  quiet  and  at  home.  I  must  take  no  more  frisks  till  this  fit 
is  over. 

"  When  once  life's  day  draws  near  the  gloaming, 
Then  farewell  careless  social  roaming ; 
And  farewell  cheerful  tankards  foaming, 

»  For  By  and  attour,  i.e.  over  and  above. 


1826.]  JOURNAL  211 

And  social  noise; 
And  farewell  dear  deluding  woman, 

The  joy  of  joys  1" ' 

Long  life  to  thy  fame  and  peace  to  thy  soul,  Rob  Burns  !  When  I 
want  to  express  a  sentiment  which  I  feel  strongly,  I  find  the  phrase 
in  Shakespeare  —  or  thee.  The  blockheads  talk  of  my  being  like 
Shakespeare — not  fit  to  tie  his  brogues." 

December  12. — Did  not  go  to  the  Parliament  House,  but  drove 
with  Walter  to  Dalkeith,  where  we  missed  the  Duke,  and  found 
Mr.  Blakeney.  One  thing  I  saw  there  which  pleased  me  much, 
and  that  was  my  own  picture,  painted  twenty  years  ago  by  Raeburn 
for  Constable,  and  which  was  to  have  been  brought  to  sale  among 
the  rest  of  the  wreck,  hanging  quietly  up  in  the  dining-room  at  Dal- 
keith.' I  do  not  care  much  about  these  things,  yet  it  would  have 
been  annoying  to  have  been  knocked  down  to  the  best  bidder  even 
in  effigy ;  and  I  am  obliged  to  the  friendship  and  delicacy  which 
placed  the  portrait  where  it  now  is.  Dined  at  Archie  Swinton's,  with 
all  the  cousins  of  that  honest  clan,  and  met  Lord  Cringletie,*  his  wife, 
and  others.  Finished  my  task  this  day. 

December  13. — Went  to  the  Court  this  morning  early,  and  re- 
mained till  past  three.  Then  attended  a  meeting  of  the  Edinburgh 
Academy  Directors  on  account  of  some  discussion  about  flogging.  I 
am  an  enemy  to  corporal  punishment,  but  there  are  many  boys  who 
will  not  attend  without  it.  It  is  an  instant  and  irresistible  motive, 
and  I  love  boys'  heads  too  much  to  spoil  them  at  the  expense  of  their 
opposite  extremity.  Then,  when  children  feel  an  emancipation  on 
this  point,  we  may  justly  fear  they  will  loosen  the  bonds  of  disci- 
pline altogether.  The  master,  I  fear,  must  be  something  of  a  despot 
at  the  risk  of  his  becoming  something  like  a  tyrant.  He  governs 
subjects  whose  keen  sense  of  the  present  is  not  easily  ruled  by  any 
considerations  that  are  not  pressing  and  immediate.  I  was  indiffer- 
ently well  beaten  at  school ;  but  I  am  now  quite  certain  that  twice  as 
much  discipline  would  have  been  well  bestowed. 

Dined  at  home  with  Walter  and  Jane ;  they  with  Anne  wen,t  out 
in  the  evening,  I  remained,  but  not  I  fear  to  work  much.  I  feel  sore- 
ly fagged.  I  am  sadly  fagged.  Then  I  cannot  get 's  fate  out 

of  my  head.  I  see  that  kind,  social,  beneficent  face  never  turned  to 
me  without  respect  and  complacence,  and — I  see  it  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  This  is  childish  ;  I  tell  myself  so,  and  I  trust  the  feeling  to 
no  one  else.  But  here  it  goes  down  like  the  murderer  who  could 
not  cease  painting  the  ideal  vision  of  the  man  he  had  murdered,  and 

1  Burns'S  lines  to  J.  Smith.  Tim«  h»th  not  teen,  Time  may  not  se«, 

a  Delta's  lines  on  Leslie's  portrait  of  Scott  Tm  end8  hl"  reie"'  a  third  like  *•*• 

may  be  recorded  here :-  ,  KQW  ^  Bowhm 

On"  xton'.  "Ceermidd  twiiteht  dim  4  James  Wolfe  Murray  succeeded  Lord  Mead. 

Who  dreamed  immortal  dream.,  and  took  owbank  on  the  Bench  as  Lord  Cringletie,  in  No- 

From  Nature's  hand  her  picture  book  ;  Vember,  1816,  and  died  in  1836.' 


212  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

who  he  supposed  haunted  him.  A  thousand  fearful  images  and  dire 
suggestions  glance  along  the  mind  when  it  is  moody  and  discontented 
with  itself.  Command  them  to  stand  and  show  themselves,  and  you 
presently  assert  the  power  of  reason  over  imagination.  But  if  by 
any  strange  alterations  in  one's  nervous  system  you  lost  for  a  mo- 
ment the  talisman  which  controls  these  fiends,  would  they  not  terrify 
into  obedience  with  their  mandates,  rather  than  we  would  dare  lon- 
ger to  endure  their  presence  ? 

December  14. — Annoyed  with  this  cursed  complaint,  though  I  live 
like  a  hermit  on  pulse  and  water.  Bothered,  too,  with  the  Court, 
which  leaves  me  little  room  for  proof-sheets,  and  none  for  copy. 
They  sat  to-day  till  past  two,  so  before  I  had  walked  home,  and  called 
for  half  an  hour  on  the  Chief  Commissioner,  the  work  part  of  the 
day  was  gone ;  and  then  my  lassitude — I  say  lassitude — not  indo- 
lence— is  so  great  that  it  costs  me  an  hour's  nap  after  I  come  home. 
We  dined  to-day  with  R.  Dundas  of  Arniston — Anne  and  I.  There 
was  a  small  cabal  about  Cheape's  election  for  Professor  of  Civil  Law, 
which  it  is  thought  we  can  carry  for  him.  He  deserves  support,  hav- 
ing been  very  indifferently  used  in  the  affair  of  the  Beacon?  where  cer- 
tain high  Tories  showed  a  great  desire  to  leave  him  to  the  mercy  of 
the  enemy  ;  as  Feeble  says,  "  I  will  never  bear  a  base  mind." *  We 
drank  some  "  victorious  Burgundy,"  contrary  to  all  prescription. 

December  15. — Egad!  I  think  I  am  rather  better  for  my  good 
cheer  !  I  have  passed  one  quiet  night  at  least,  and  that  is  something 
gained.  A  glass  of  good  wine  is  a  gracious  creature,  and  reconciles 
poor  mortality  to  itself,  and  that  is  what  few  things  can  do. 

Our  election  went  off  very  decently  ;  no  discussions  or  aggravat- 
ing speeches.  Sir  John  Jackass  seconded  the  Whig's  nominee.  So 
much  they  will  submit  to  to  get  a  vote.  The  numbers  stood — Cheape,3 
138;  Bell,  132.  Majority,  6 — mighty  hard  run.  The  Tory  interest 
was  weak  among  the  old  stagers,  where  I  remember  it  so  strong,  but 
preferment,  country  residence,  etc.,  has  thinned  them.  Then  it  was 
strong  in  the  younger  classes.  The  new  Dean,  James  Moncreiff,4 
presided  with  strict  propriety  and  impartiality.  Walter  and  Jane 
dined  with  us. 

1  A  Party  Newspaper  started  by  the  Tories  dangered  that  of  Scott. — See  Life,  vol.  vi.  pp. 

in  Edinburgh  at  the  beginning  of  1821.     It  was  426-429,  and  Cockburn's  Memorials,  p.  312. 
suppressed  in  the  month  of  August,  but  during         a  2  Henry  IV.  Act  in.  Sc.  2. 
the  interval  contrived  to  give  great  offence  to          3  Douglas  Cheape,  whose  Introductory  Lect- 

the  Whig  leaders  by  its  personality.     Lockhart  ure  was  published  in  1827.     Mr.  Cheape  died 

saysof  it  that  "a  more  pitiable  mass  of  blunders  in  1861. 

and  imbecility  was  never  heaped  together  than          «  James  Moncreiff,  son  of  the  Rev.  Sir  Henry 

the  whole  of  this  affair  exhibited;"  and  Scott,  Wellwood.    The  new  Dean  succeeded  Ix>rd  Al- 

who  was  one  of  its  founders,  along  with  the  lowayon  the  Scotch  Bench  in  1829,  and  died  in 

Lord  Advocate  and  other  official  persons,  wrote  1851.   Cockburn  writes  of  him  thus:— "  During 

to  Erskine,  "I  am  terribly  malcontent  about  the  twenty-one  years  he  was  on  the  civil  and 

the  Beacon.      I  was  dragged  into  the  bond  criminal  benches,  he  performed  all  his  duties 

against  all  reasons  I  could  make,  and  now  they  admirably.     Law-learning  and  law-reasoning, 

have  allowed  me  no  vote  regarding  standing  industry,  honesty,  and  high  -  minded  purity 

or  flying.   Entre  nous,  our  friends  went  into  the  could  do  no  more  for  any  judge.    After  forty 

thing  like  fools,  and  came  out  very  like  cow-  years  of  unbroken  friendship,  it  is  a  pleasure 

ards."    The  wretched  libels  it  contained  cost  to  record  my  love  of  the  man,  and  rty  admira- 

gir  A.  Boswell  his  life,  and  for  a  moment  en-  tion  of  his  character. — Journals,  vol.  ii.  p.  364. 


1826.J  JOURNAL  213 

December  16. — Another  bad  night.  I  remember  I  used  to  think 
a  slight  illness  was  a  luxurious  thing.  My  pillow  was  then  softened 
by  the  hand  of  affection,  and  all  the  little  cares  which  were  put  in 
exercise  to  soothe  the  languor  or  pain  were  more  flattering  and 
pleasing  than  the  consequences  of  the  illness  were  disagreeable.  It 
was  a  new  sense  to  be  watched  and  attended,  and  I  used  to  think  that 
the  Malade  imaginaire  gained  something  by  his  humour.  It  is  differ- 
ent in  the  latter  stages.  The  old  post-chaise  gets  more  shattered  and 
out  of  order  at  every  turn ;  windows  will  not  be  pulled  up  ;  doors  re- 
fuse to  open,  or  being  open  will  not  shut  again — which  last  is  rather 
my  case.  There  is  some  new  subject  of  complaint  every  moment ; 
your  sicknesses  come  thicker  and  thicker ;  your  comforting  or  sym- 
pathising friends  fewer  and  fewer ;  for  why  should  they  sorrow  for 
the  course  of  nature  ?  The  recollection  of  youth,  health,  and  uninter- 
rupted powers  of  activity,  neither  improved  nor  enjoyed,  is  a  poor 
strain  of  comfort.  The  best  is,  the  long  halt  will  arrive  at  last,  and 
cure  all. 

We  had  a  long  sitting  in  the  Court.  Came  home  through  a  cold 
easterly  rain  without  a  greatcoat,  and  was  well  wet.  A  goodly  med- 
icine for  my  aching  bones.1  Dined  at  Mr.  Adam  Wilson's,  and  had 
some  good  singing  in  the  evening.  Saw  Dr.  Stokoe,  who  attended 
Boney  in  Saint  Helena,  a  plain,  sensible  sort  of  man.2 

December  17. — This  was  a  day  of  labour,  agreeably  varied  by  a 
pain  which  rendered  it  scarce  possible  to  sit  upright.  My  Journal  is 
getting  a  vile  chirurgical  aspect. 

I  begin  to  be  afraid  of  the  odd  consequences  complaints  in  the 
post  equitem  are  said  to  produce.  Walter  and  Jane  dined.  Mrs. 
Skene  came  in  the  evening. 

December  18. — Almost  sick  with  pain,  and  it  stops  everything.  I 
shall  tire  of  my  Journal  if  it  is  to  contain  nothing  but  biles  and  plasters 
and  unguents.  In  my  better  days  I  had  stories  to  tell ;  but  death 
has  closed  the  long  dark  avenue  upon  loves  and  friendships ;  and  I 
can  only  look  at  them  as  through  the  grated  door  of  a  long  burial- 
place  filled  with  monuments  of  those  who  were  once  dear  to  me,  with 
no  insincere  wish  that  it  may  open  for  me  at  no  distant  period,  pro- 
vided such  be  the  will  of  God.  My  pains  were  those  of  the  heart, 
and  had  something  flattering  in  their  character ;  if  in  the  head,  it  was 
from  the  blow  of  a  bludgeon  gallantly  received  and  welt  paid  back. 

I  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Commissioners  ;3  there  was  none  to- 
day. The  carriage  had  set  me  down ;  so  I  walked  from  the  college 
in  one  of  the  sourest  and  most  unsocial  days  which  I  ever  felt.  Why 
should  I  have  liked  this  ?  I  do  not  know  ;  it  is  my  dogged  humour 
to  yield  little  to  external  circumstances.  Sent  an  excuse  to  the  Royal 
Society,  however. 

1  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  v.  Sc.  2.  surgeon  in  the  fleet  at  Trafalgar,  and  was  after- 

wards appointed  to  St.  Helena. 

4  Dr.  Stokoe,  who  had  settled  at  Durham,          a  The  University  Commiesioa —  See  antt,  p. 
died  suddenly  at  York  in  1852.    He  had  been      168. 


214  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

December  19. — "Went  to  Court.  No,  I  lie;  I  had  business  there. 
Wrote  a  task ;  no  more  ;  could  not.  Went  out  to  Dalkeith,  and  dined 
with  the  Duke.  It  delights  me  to  hear  this  hopeful  young  nobleman 
talk  with  sense  and  firmness  about  his  plans  for  improving  his  estate, 
and  employing  the  poor.  If  God  and  the  world  spare  him,  he  will  be 
far  known  as  a  true  Scots  lord.1 

December  20. — Being  a  Teind  day,  I  had  a  little  repose.  We 
dined  at  Hector  Macdonald's  with  William  Clerk  and  some  young- 
sters. Highland  hospitality  as  usual.  I  got  some  work  done 
to-day. 

December  21. — In  the  house  till  two  o'clock  nearly.  Came  home, 
corrected  proof-sheets,  etc.,  mechanically.  All  well,  would  the  ma- 
chine but  keep  in  order,  but  "The  spinning  wheel  is  auld  and  stiff." 

I  think  I  shall  not  live  to  the  usual  verge  of  human  existence.  I 
shall  never  see  the  threescore  and  ten,  and  shall  be  summed  up  at  a 
discount.  No  help  for  it,  and  no  matter  either. 

December  22. — Poor  old  Honour  and  Glory  dead — once  Lord 
Moira,  more  lately  Lord  Hastings.  He  was  a  man  of  very  considera- 
ble talents,  but  had  an  overmastering  degree  of  vanity  of  the  grossest 
kind.  It  followed  of  course  that  he  was  gullible.  In  fact  the  pro- 
pensity was  like  a  ring  in  his  nose  into  which  any  rogue  might  put  a 
string.  He  had  a  high  reputation  for  war,  but  it  was  after  the  petti- 
fogging hostilities  in  America  where  he  had  done  some  clever  things. 
He  died,  having  the  credit,  or  rather  having  had  the  credit,  to  leave 
more  debt  than  any  man  since  Caesar's  time.  £1,200,000  is  said  to 
be  the  least.  There  was  a  time  that  I  knew  him  well,  and  regretted 
the  foibles  which  mingled  with  his  character,  so  as  to  make  his  noble 
qualities  sometimes  questionable,  sometimes  ridiculous.  He  was  al- 
ways kind  to  me.  Poor  Plantagenet !  Young  Percival  went  out  to 
dine  at  Dalkeith  with  me. 

December  24. — To  add  to  my  other  grievances  I  have  this  day  a 
proper  fit  of  rheumatism  in  my  best  knee.  I  pushed  to  Abbotsford, 
however,  after  the  Court  rose,  though  compelled  to  howl  for  pain  as 
they  helped  me  out  of  the  carriage. 

[Abbotsford,]  December  25. — By  dint  of  abstinence  and  opodeldoc 
I  passed  a  better  night  than  I  could  have  hoped  for ;  but  took  up  my 
lodging  in  the  chapel  room,  as  it  is  called,  for  going  upstairs  was  im- 
possible. 

To-day  I  have  been  a  mere  wretch.  I  lay  in  bed  till  past  eleven, 
thinking  to  get  rid  of  the  rheumatism ;  then  I  walked  as  far  as  Turn- 
again  with  much  pain,  and  since  that  time  I  have  just  roasted  my- 
self like  a  potato  by  the  fireside  in  my  study,  slumbering  away  my 
precious  time,  and  unable  to  keep  my  eyes  open  or  my  mind  intent - 
on  anything,  if  I  would  have  given  my  life  for  it.  I  seemed  to  sleep 

1  The  long  life  of  Walter,  fifth  Duke  of  Buc-      carried  with  him  to  the  grave  in  1884  the  love 
eleuch,  more  than  fulfilled  the  hopes  and  prog-      and  respect  of  his  countrymen, 
nostics  of  bis  friend.    A  "true  Scots  lord,"  he 


1826.]  JOURNAL  215 

tolerably,  too,  last  night,  but  I  suppose  Nature  had  not  her  dues  prop- 
erly paid ;  neither  has  she  for  some  time. 

I  saw  the  filling  up  of  the  quarry  on  the  terrace  walk,  and  was 
pleased.  Anne  and  I  dined  at  Mertoun,  as  has  been  my  old  wont 
and  use  as  Christmas  day  comes  about.  We  were  late  in  setting  out, 
and  I  have  rarely  seen  so  dark  a  night.  The  mist  rolled  like  volumes 
of  smoke  on  the  road  before  us. 

December  26. — Returned  to  Abbotsford  this  morning.  I  heard  it 
reported  that  Lord  B.  is  very  ill.  If  that  be  true  it  affords  ground 

for  hope  that  Sir  John is  not  immortal.  Both  great  bores.  But 

the  Earl  has  something  of  wild  cleverness,  far  exceeding  the  ponder- 
ous stupidity  of  the  Cavaliero  Jackasso. 

December  27. — Still  weak  with  this  wasting  illness,  but  it  is  clear- 
ly going  off.  Time  it  should,  quoth  Sancho.  I  began  my  work  again, 
which  had  slumbered  betwixt  pain  and  weakness.  In  fact  I  could 
not  write  or  compose  at  all. 

December  28. — Stuck  to  my  work.  Mr.  Scrope  came  to  dinner, 
and  remained  next  day.  We  were  expecting  young  Percival  and  his 
wife,  once  my  favourite  and  beautiful  Nancy  M'Leod,  and  still  a  very 
fine  woman ;  but  they  came  not. 

In  bounced  G.  T[homson],  alarmed  by  an  anonymous  letter,  which 
acquainted  him  that  thirty  tents  full  of  Catholics  were  coming  to 
celebrate  high  mass  in  the  Abbey  church ;  and  to  consult  me  on  such 
a  precious  document  he  came  prancing  about  seven  at  night.  I  hope 
to  get  him  a  kirk  before  he  makes  any  extraordinary  explosion  of 
simplicity. 

December  29. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival  came  to-day.  He  is  son  of 
the  late  lamented  statesman,  equally  distinguished  by  talents  and  in- 
tegrity. The  son  is  a  clever  young  man,  and  has  read  a  good  deal ; 
pleasant,  too,  in  society ;  but  tampers  with  phrenology,  which  is  un- 
worthy of  his  father's  son.  There  is  a  certain  kind  of  cleverish  men, 
either  half  educated  or  cock-brained  by  nature,  who  are  attached  to 
that  same  turnipology.  I  am  sorry  this  gentleman  should  take  such 
whims — sorry  even  for  his  name's  sake.  Walter  and  Jane  arrived ; 
so  our  Christmas  party  thickens.  Sir  Adam  and  Colonel  Ferguson 
dined. 

December  30. — Wrote  and  wrought  hard,  then  went  out  a  drive 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Percival ;  and  went  round  by  the  lake.  If  my  days 
of  good  fortune  should  ever  return  I  will  lay  out  some  pretty  rides  at 
Abbotsford. 

Last  day  of  an  eventful  year ;  much  evil  and  some  good ;  but  es- 
pecially the  courage  to  endure  what  Fortune  sends  without  becoming 
a  pipe  for  her  fingers.1 

It  is  not  the  last  day  of  the  year,  but  to-morrow  being  Sunday  we 
hold  our  festival  of  neighbours  to-day  instead.  The  Fergusons  came 

1  Hamlet,  Act  in.  Sc.  2.— i.  a  t. 


216  JOURNAL  PEC.  1820. 

en  masse,  and  we  had  all  the  usual  appliances  of  mirth  and  good 
cheer.  Yet  our  party,  like  the  chariot-wheels  of  Pharaoh  in  the  Red 
Sea,  dragged  heavily. 

Some  of  the  party  grow  old  and  infirm ;  others  thought  of  the 
absence  of  the  hostess,  whose  reception  of  her  guests  was  always  kind. 
We  did  as  well  as  we  could,  however. 

"  It's  useless  to  murmur  and  pout — 
There's  no  good  in  making  ado ; 
"Pis  well  the  old  year  is  out, 
And  time  to  begin  a  new." 

December  31. — It  must  be  allowed  that  the  regular  recurrence  of 
annual  festivals  among  the  same  individuals  has,  as  life  advances, 
something  in  it  that  is  melancholy.  We  meet  on  such  occasions  like 
the  survivors  of  some  perilous  expedition,  wounded  and  weakened 
ourselves,  and  looking  through  the  diminished  ranks  of  those  who  re- 
main, while  we  think  of  "those  who  are  no  more.  Or  they  are  like 
the  feasts  of  the  Caribs,  in  which  they  held  that  the  pale  and  speech- 
less phantoms  of  the  deceased  appeared  and  mingled  with  the  living. 
Yet  where  shall  we  fly  from  vain  repining?  Or  why  should  we  give 
up  the  comfort  of  seeing  our  friends,  because  they  can  no  longer  be 
to  us,  or  we  to  them,  what  we  once  were  to  each  other  ? 


1827.— JANUARY 

January  1. — God  make  this  a^happy  year  to  the  King  and  coun- 
try, and  to  all  honest  men  ! 

I  went  with  all  our  family  to-day  to  dine  as  usual  at  the  kind 
house  of  Huntly  Burn ;  but  the  same  cloud  which  hung  over  us  on 
Saturday  still  had  its  influence.  The  effect  of  grief  upon  [those]  who, 
like  myself  and  Sir  A.  F.,  are  highly  susceptible  of  humour,  has,  I 
think,  been  finely  touched  by  Wordsworth  in  the  character  of  the 
merry  village  teacher  Matthew,  whom  Jeffrey  profanely  calls  the  hys- 
terical schoolmaster.1  But,  with  my  friend  Jeffrey's  pardon,  I  think, 
he  loves  to  see  imagination  best  when  it  is  bitted  and  managed  and 
ridden  upon  the  grand  pas.  He  does  not  make  allowance  for  starts 
and  sallies  and  bounds  when  Pegasus  is  beautiful  to  behold,  though 
sometimes  perilous  to  his  rider.  Not  that  I  think  the  amiable  bard 
of  Rydal  shows  judgment  in  choosing  such  subjects  as  the  popular 
mind  cannot  sympathise  in.  It  is  unwise  and  unjust  to  himself.  I 
do  not  compare  myself,  in  point  of  imagination,  with  Wordsworth — 
far  from  it;  for  [his]  is  naturally  exquisite,  and  highly  cultivated  by 
constant  exercise.  But  I  can  see  as  many  castles  in  the  clouds  as 
any  man,  as  many  genii  in  the  curling  smoke  of  a  steam  engine,  as 
perfect  a  Persepolis  in  the  embers  of  a  sea-coal  fire.  My  life  has  been 
spent  in  such  day-dreams.  But  I  cry  no  roast-meat.  There  are  times 
a  man  should  remember  what  Kousseau  used  to  say :  Tais-toi,  Jean- 
Jacques^  car  on  ne  fentend  pas!* 

January  2. — I  had  resolved  to  mark  down  no  more  griefs  and 
groans,  but  I  must  needs  briefly  state  that  I  am  nailed  to  my  chair 
like  the  unhappy  Theseus.  The  rheumatism,  exasperated  by  my  sortie 
of  yesterday,  has  seized  on  my  only  serviceable  knee — and  I  am,  by 
Proserpine,  motionless  as  an  anvil.  Leeches  and  embrocations  are  all 
I  have  for  it.  Diable!  there  was  a  twinge.  The  Russells  and  Fergusons 
here ;  but  I  was  fairly  driven  off  the  pit  after  dinner,  and  compelled 
to  retreat  to  my  own  bed,  there  to  howl  till  morning  like  a  dog  in  his 
solitary  cabin. 

January  3. — Mending  slowly.  Two  things  are  comfortable — 1st, 
I  lose  no  good  weather  out  of  doors,  for  the  ground  is  covered  with 
snow  ;  2d,  That,  by  exerting  a  little  stoicism,  I  can  make  my  illness 
promote  the  advance  of  Nap.  As  I  can  scarcely  stand,  however,  I 


1  "A  half-cra/y  sentimental  person.  "—Edin.          *  Mme.  de  Boufflers's  saying  to  the  author  of 
Rev.  No.  xxiii.  p.  135.— J.  G.  L.  Julie. 


218  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

am  terribly  awkward  at  consulting  books,  maps,  etc.  The  work  grows 
under  my  hand,  however ;  vol.  vi.  [Napoleon]  will  be  finished  this 
week,  I  believe.  Russells  being  still  with  us,  I  was  able  by  dint  of 
handing  and  chairing  to  get  to  the  dining-room  and  the  drawing-room 
in  the  evening. 

Talking  of  Wordsworth,  he  told  Anne  and  me  a  story,  the  object 
of  which  was  to  show  that  Crabbe  had  not  imagination.  He,  Sir 
George  Beaumont,  and  Wordsworth  were  sitting  together  in  Murray 
the  bookseller's  back-room.  Sir  George,  after  sealing  a  letter,  blew 
out  the  candle,  which  had  enabled  him  to  do  so,  and,  exchanging  a 
look  with  Wordsworth,  began  to  admire  in  silence  the  undulating 
thread  of  smoke  which  slowly  arose  from  the  expiring  wick,  when 
Crabbe  put  on  the  extinguisher.  Anne  laughed  at  the  instance,  and 
inquired  if  the  taper  was  wax,  and  being  answered  in  the  negative, 
seemed  to  think  that  there  was  no  call  on  Mr.  Crabbe  to  sacrifice  his 
sense  of  smell  to  their  admiration  of  beautiful  and  evanescent  forms. 
•  In  two  other  men  I  should  have  said  "this  is  affectations,"1  with  Sir 
Hugh  Evans ;  but  Sir  George  is  the  man  in  the  world  most  void  of 
affectation  ;  and  then  he  is  an  exquisite  painter,  and  no  doubt  saw 
where  the  incident  would  have  succeeded  in  painting.  The  error  is 
not  in  you  yourself  receiving  deep  impressions  from  slight  hints,  but 
in  supposing  that  precisely  the  same  sort  of  impression  must  arise  in 
the  mind  of  men  otherwise  of  kindred  feeling,  or  that  the  common- 
place folks  of  the  world  can  derive  such  inductions  at  any  time  or 
under  any  circumstances. 

January  4. — My  enemy  gained  some  strength  during  the  watches 
of  the  night,  but  has  again  succumbed  under  scalding  fomentations  of 
camomile  flowers.  I  still  keep  my  state,  for  my  knee,  though  it  has 
ceased  to  pain  me,  is  very  feeble.  We  began  to  fill  the  ice-house  to- 
day. Dine  alone — enfamille,  that  is,  Jane,  Anne, Walter,  and  I.  Why, 
this  makes  up  for  aiches,  as  poor  John  Kemble  used  to  call  them. 
After  tea  I  broke  off  work,  and  read  my  young  folks  the  farce  of  the 
Critic,  and  "  merry  folks  were  we." 

January  5. — I  waked,  or  aked  if  you  please,  for  five  or  six  hours 
I  think,  then  fevered  a  little.  I  am  better  though,  God  be  thanked, 
and  can  now  shuffle  about  and  help  myself  to  what  I  want  without 
ringing  every  quarter  of  an  hour.  It  is  a  fine  clear  sunny  day ;  I 
should  like  to  go  out,  but  flannel  and  poultices  cry  nay.  So  I  drudge 
away  with  the  assisting  of  Pelet,who  has  a  real  French  head,  believ- 
ing all  he  desires  should  be  true,  and  affirming  all  he  wishes  should" 
be  believed.  Skenes  (Mr.  and  Mrs.,  with  Miss  Jardine)  arrived  about 
six  o'clock.  Skene  very  rheumatic,  as  well  as  I  am. 

January  6. — Worked  till  dusk,  but  not  with  much  effect ;  my  head 
and  mind  not  clear  somehow.  W.  Laidlaw  at  dinner.  In  the  evening 
read  Foote's  farce  of  the  Commissary,  said  to  have  been  levelled  at 

»  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Act  I  Sc.  1.  — j.  a.  L. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  219 

Sir  Lawrence  Dundas  ;  but  Sir  Lawrence  was  a  man  of  family.  Wal- 
ter and  Jane  dined  at  Mertoun. 

January  7. — Wrought  till  twelve,  then  sallied  and  walked  with 
Skene  for  two  miles ;  home  and  corrected  proofs,  and  to  a  large 
amount.  Mr.  Scrope  and  George  Thomson  dined. 

January  8. — Slept  well  last  night  in  consequence  I  think  of  my 
walk,  which  I  will,  God  willing,  repeat  to-day.  I  wrote  some  letters 
too  long  delayed,  and  sent  off  my  packets  to  J.  B.  Letter  from  C. 
Sharpe  very  pressing.  I  should  employ  my  interest  at  Windsor  to 
oppose  the  alterations  on  the  town  of  Edinburgh.  "  One  word  from 
you,  and  all  that."  I  don't  think  I  shall  speak  that  word  though.  I 
hate  the  alterations,  that  is  certain  ;  but  then  ne  accesseris  in  consilium 
nisi  vocatus, — what  is  the  use  of  my  volunteering  an  opinion  ?  Again, 
the  value  of  many  people's  property  may  depend  on  this  plan  going 
forward.  Have  I  a  right  from  mere  views  of  amenity  to  interfere  with 
those  serious  interests  ?  I  something  doubt  it.  Then  I  have  always 
said  that  I  never  meddle  in  such  work,  and  ought  I  sotto  voce  now  to 
begin  it  ?  By  my  faith  I  won't ;  there  are  enough  to  state  the  case 
besides  me.1 

The  young  Duke  of  B.  came  in  to  bid  us  good-by,  as  he  is  going 
off  to  England.  God  bless  him  !  He  is  a  hawk  of  a  good  nest.  Af- 
terwards I  walked  to  the  Welsh  pool,  Skene  declining  to  go,  for  I 

" not  over  stout  of  limb, 

Seem  stronger  of  the  two." 

January  9. — This  morning  received  the  long-expected  news  of  the 
Duke  of  York's  death.2  I  am  sorry  both  on  public  and  private  ac- 
counts. His  R.H.  was,  while  he  occupied  the  situation  of  next  in  the 
royal  succession,  a  Breakwater  behind  the  throne.  I  fear  his  brother 
of  Clarence's  opinions  may  be  different,  and  that  he  will  hoist  a  stand- 
ard under  which  will  rendezvous  men  of  desperate  hopes  and  evil  de- 
signs. I  am  sorry,  too,  on  my  own  account.  The  Duke  of  York  was 
uniformly  kind  to  me,  and  though  I  never  tasked  his  friendship  deep- 
ly, yet  I  find  a  powerful  friend  is  gone.  His  virtues  were  honour, 
good  sense,  integrity  ;  and  by  exertion  of  these  qualities  he  raised 
the  British  army  from  a  very  low  ebb  to  be  the  pride  and  dread  of 
Europe.  His  errors  were  those  of  a  sanguine  and  social  temper ;  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  deep  play,  which  was  fatally  allied 
with  a  disposition  to  the  bottle.  This  last  is  incident  to  his  complaint, 

1  Mr.  Sharpe  was  doing  what  he  could  by  Scotland,  I  mean  Sir  W.  S."    This  was  not  the 

voice  and  pen  to  prevent  the  destruction  of  only  appeal  made  to  Scott  to  interpose,  and 

many  historic  buildings  in  Edinburgh,  which  that  he  had  dose  so  at  least  in  one  case  effect- 

the  craze  for  "improvements"  caused  at  this  ually  may  be  seen  by  referring  to  Sharpe's 

time.    St.  Giles'  Church  was  unfortunately  left  Letters,  vol.  ii.  pp.  380,  388,  389. 
to  its  fate.    Witness  its  external  condition  at 

the  present  day !  a  Scott  sent  a  biographical  notice  of  the  Duke 

-The  immediate  cause  of  Mr.  Sharpe's  letter  of  York  to  the  Weekly  Journal  on  this  day.    It 

was  a  hint  to  him  from  the  Court,  "that  one  is  now  included  in  the  Misc.  Prote  Works,  vol. 

person  is  all-powerful  in  everything  regarding  iv.  pp.  400-41C. 


220  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

which  vinous  influence  soothes  for  the  time,  while  it  insidiously  in- 
creases it  in  the  end. 

Here  blows  a  gale  of  wind.  I  was  to  go  to  Galashiels  to  settle 
some  foolish  lawsuit,  and  afterwards  to  have  been  with  Mr.  Kerr  of 
Kippilaw  to  treat  about  a  march-dike.  I  shall  content  myself  with  the 
first  duty,  for  this  day  does  not  suit  Bowden-moor. 

Went  over  to  Galashiels  like  the  devil  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  found 
a  writer  contesting  with  half-a-dozen  unwashed  artificers  the  posses- 
sion of  a  piece  of  ground  the  size  and  shape  of  a  three-cornered  pock- 
et-handkerchief. Tried  to  "gar  them  gree,"  and  if  I  succeed,  I  shall 
think  I  deserve  something  better  than  the  touch  of  rheumatism,  which 
is  like  to  be  my  only  reward. 

Scotts  of  Harden  and  John  Pringle  of  Clifton  dined,  and  we  got 
on  very  well. 

January  10. — Enter  rheumatism,  and  takes  me  by  the  knee.  So 
much  for  playing  the  peacemaker  in  a  shower  of  rain.  Nothing  for 
it  but  patience,  cataplasm  of  camomile,  and  labour  in  my  own  room 
the  whole  day  till  dinner-time — then  company  and  reading  in  the 
evening. 

January  11. — Ditto  repeated.  I  should  have  thought  I  would 
have  made  more  of  these  solitary  days  than  I  find  I  can  do.  A  morn- 
ing, or  two  or  three  hours  before  dinner,  have  often  done  more  effi- 
cient work  than  six  or  seven  of  these  hours  of  languor,  I  cannot  say 
of  illness,  can  produce.  A  bow  that  is  slackly  strung  will  never  send 
an  arrow  very  far.  Heavy  snow.  We  are  engaged  at  Mr.  Scrope's, 
but  I  think  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go.  I  remained  at  home  according- 
ly, and,  having  nothing  else  to  do,  worked  hard  and  effectively.  I 
believe  my  sluggishness  was  partly  owing  to  the  gnawing  rheumatic 
pain  in  my  knee,  for  after  all  I  am  of  opinion  pain  is  an  evil,  let  Stoics 
say  what  they  will.  Thank  God,  it  is  an  evil  which  is  mending  with 
me. 

January  12. — All  this  day  occupied  with  camomile  poultices  and 
pen  and  ink.  It  is  now  four  o'clock,  and  I  have  written  yesterday 
and  to-day  ten  of  my  pages — that  is,  one-tenth  of  one  of  these  large 
volumes — moreover,  I  have  corrected  three  proof-sheets.  I  wish  it 
may  not  prove  fool's  haste,  yet  I  take  as  much  pains  too  as  is  in  my 
nature. 

January  IS.^The  Fergusons,  with  my  neighbours  Mr.  Scrope  and 
Mr.  Bainbridge  and  young  Hume,  eat  a  haunch  of  venison  from  Drum- 
mond  Castle,  and  seemed  happy.  We  had  music  and  a  little  dancing, 
and  enjoyed  in  others  the  buoyancy  of  spirit  that  we  no  longer  pos- 
sess ourselves.  Yet  I  do  not  think  the  young  people  of  this  age  so 
gay  as  we  were.  There  is  a  turn  for  persiflage,  a  fear  of  ridicule 
among  them,  which  stifles  the  honest  emotions  of  gaiety  and  light- 
ness of  spirit ;  and  people,  when  they  give  in  the  least  to  the  expan- 
sion of  their  natural  feelings,  are  always  kept  under  by  the  fear  of 
becoming  ludicrous.  To  restrain  your  feelings  and  check  your  en- 


1827.]  JOURNAL  221 

thusiastn  in  the  cause  even  of  pleasure  is  now  a  rule  among  people 
of  fashion,  as  much  as  it  used  to  be  among  philosophers. 

January  14. — Well — my  holidays  are  out — and  I  may  count  my 
gains  and  losses  as  honest  Robinson  Crusoe  used  to  balance  his  ac- 
counts of  good  and  evil. 

I  have  not  been  able,  during  three  weeks,  to  stir  above  once  or 
twice  from  the  house.  But  then  I  have  executed  a  great  deal  of 
work,  which  would  be  otherwise  unfinished. 

Again  I  have  sustained  long  and  sleepless  nights  and  much  pain. 
True ;  but  no  one  is  the  worse  of  the  thoughts  which  arise  in  the 
watches  of  the  night ;  and  for  pain,  the  complaint  which  brought  on 
this  rheumatism  was  not  so  painful  perhaps,  but  was  infinitely  more 
disagreeable  and  depressing. 

Something  there  has  been  of  dulness  in  our  little  reunions  of  soci- 
ety which  did  not  use  to  cloud  them.  But  I  have  seen  all  my  own 
old  and  kind  friends,  with  my  dear  children  (Charles  alone  excepted)  ; 
and  if  we  did  not  rejoice  with  perfect  joy,  it  was  overshadowed  from 
the  same  sense  of  regret. 

Again,  this  new  disorder  seems  a  presage  of  the  advance  of  age 
with  its  infirmities.  But  age  is  but  the  cypress  avenue  which  termi- 
nates in  the  tomb,  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

I  have  been  putting  my  things  to  rights  to  go  off  to-morrow. 
Though  I  always  wonder  why  it  should  be  so,  I  feel  a  dislike  to  order 
and  to  task-work  of  all  kinds — a  predominating  foible  in  my  disposi- 
tion. I  do  not  mean  that  it  influences  me  in  "morals  ;  for  even  in  youth 
I  had  a  disgust  at  gross  irregularities  of  any  kind,  and  such  as  I  ran 
into  were  more  from  compliance  with  others  and  a  sort  of  false 
shame,  than  any  pleasure  I  sought  or  found  in  dissipation.  But 
what  I  mean  is  a  detestation  of  precise  order  in  petty  matters — in 
reading  or  answering  letters,  in  keeping  my  papers  arranged  and  in 
order,  and  so  on.  Weber,  and  then  Gordon,  used  to  keep  my  things 
in  some  order — now  they  are  verging  to  utter  confusion.  And  then 
I  have  let  my  cash  run  ahead  since  I  came  from  the  Continent — I 
must  slump  the  matter  as  I  can. 

\Shandwick  Place,]  January  15. — Off  we  came,  and  despite  of 
rheumatism  I  got  through  the  journey  comfortably.  Greeted  on  my 
arrival  by  a  number  of  small  accounts  whistling  like  grape-shot ;  they 
are  of  no  great  avail,  and  incurred,  I  see,  chiefly  during  the  time  of 
illness.  But  I  believe  it  will  take  me  some  hard  work  till  I  pay  them, 
and  how  to  get  the  time  to  work  ?  It  will  be  hard  purchased  if,  as 
I  think  not  unlikely,  this  bitch  of  a  rheumatism  should  once  more  pin 
me  to  my  chair.  Coming  through  Galashiels,  we  met  the  Laird  of 
Torwoodlee,  who,  on  hearing  how  long  I  had  been  confined,  asked 
how  I  bore  it,  observing  that  he  had  once  in  his  life  (Torwoodlee 
must  be  between  sixty  and  seventy)  been  confined  for  five  days  to  the 
house,  and  was  like  to  hang  himself.  I  regret  God's  free  air  as  much 
as  any  man,  but  I  could  amuse  myself  were  it  in  the  Bastile. 


222  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

January  16. — Went  to  Court,  and  returned  through  a  curious  at- 
mosphere, half  mist,  half  rain,  famous  for  rheumatic  joints.  Yet  I 
felt  no  increase  of  my  plaguey  malady,  but,  on  the  contrary,  am  rather 
better.  I  had  need,  otherwise  a  pair  of  crutches  for  life  were  my 
prettiest  help. 

Walter  dined  with  us  to-day,  Jane  remaining  with  her  mother. 
The  good  affectionate  creatures  leave  us  to-morrow.  God  send  them 
a  quick  passage  through  the  Irish  Channel !  They  go  to  Gort,  where 
Walter's  troop  is  lying — a  long  journey  for  winter  days. 

January  17. — Another  proper  day  of  mist,  sleet,  and  rain,  through 
which  I  navigated  homeward.  I  imagine  the  distance  to  be  a  mile 
and  a  half.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  secure  as  much  exercise. 

I  observed  in  the  papers  my  old  friend  Gifford's  funeral.  He  was 
a  man  of  rare  attainments  and  many  excellent  qualities.  The  trans- 
lation of  Juvenal  is  one  of  the  best  versions  ever  made  of  a  classical 
author,  and  his  satire  of  the  Baviad  and  Maeviad  squabashed  at  one 
blow  a  set  of  coxcombs  who  might  have  humbugged  the  world  long 
enough.  As  a  commentator  he  was  capital,  could  he  but  have  sup- 
pressed his  rancour  against  those  who  had  preceded  him  in  the  task, 
but  a  misconstruction  or  misinterpretation,  nay,  the  misplacing  of  a 
comma,  was  in  Gifford's  eyes  a  crime  worthy  of  the  most  severe  an- 
imadversion. The  same  fault  of  extreme  severity  went  through 
his  critical  labours,  and  in  general  he  flagellated  with  so  little  pity, 
that  people  lost  their  sense  of  the  criminal's  guilt  in  dislike  of  the 
savage  pleasure  which  the  executioner  seemed  to  take  in  inflicting  the 
punishment. 

This  lack  of  temper  probably  arose  from  indifferent  health,  for  he 
was  very  valetudinary,  and  realised  two  verses,  wherein  he  says  fort- 
une assigned  him — 

" One  eye  not  over  good, 

Two  sides  that  to  their  cost  have  stood 

A  ten  years'  hectic  cough, 
Aches,  stitches,  all  the  various  ills 
That  swell  the  dev'lish  doctor's  bills, 
And  sweep  poor  mortals  off." 

But  he  might  also  justly  claim,  as  his  gift,  the  moral  qualities  ex- 
pressed in  the  next  fine  stanza — 

" A  soul 

That  spurns  the  crowd's  malign  control, 

A  firm  contempt  of  wrong: 
Spirits  above  afflictions'  power, 
And  skill  to  soothe  the  lingering  hour 

With  no  inglorious  song."1 

January  18. — To  go  on  with  my  subject — Gifford  was  a  little  man, 

»  Gifford's  Mceviad.  12mo,  Lond.  1797  ;  Ode  to  Rev.  John  Ireland,  slightly  altered. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  223 

dumpled  up  together,  and  so  ill-made  as  to  seem  almost  deformed, 
but  with  a  singular  expression  of  talent  in  his  countenance.  Though 
so  little  of  an  athlete,  he  nevertheless  beat  off  Dr.  Wolcot,  when  that 
celebrated  person,  the  most  unsparing  calumniator  of  his  time,  chose 
to  be  offended  with  Gifford  for  satirising  him  in  his  turn.  Peter  Pin- 
dar made  a  most  vehement  attack,  but  Gifford  had  the  best  of  the 
affray,  and  remained,  I  think,  in  triumphant  possession  of  the  field  of 
action,  and  of  the  assailant's  cane.  Gifford  had  one  singular  custom. 
He  used  always  to  have  a  duenna  of  a  housekeeper  to  sit  in  his  study 
with  him  while  he  wrote.  This  female  companion  died  when  I  was 
in  London,  and  his  distress  was  extreme.  I  afterwards  heard  he  got 
her  place  supplied.  I  believe  there  was  no  scandal  in  all  this.1 

This  is  another  vile  day  of  darkness  and  rain,  with  a  heavy  yel- 
low mist  that  might  become  Charing  Cross — one  of  the  benefits  of 
our  extended  city  ;  for  that  in  our  atmosphere  was  unknown  till  the 
extent  of  the  buildings  below  Queen  Street.  M'Culloch  of  Ardwell 
called. 

Wrought  chiefly  on  a  critique  of  Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith's  novels,' 
and  proofs. 

January  19.  —  Uncle  Adam,*  vide  Inheritance,  who  retired  last 
year  from  an  official  situation  at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  although  sub- 
ject to  fits  of  giddiness,  and  although  carefully  watched  by  his  ac- 
complished daughter,  is  still  in  the  habit  of  walking  by  himself  if  he 
can  by  possibility  make  an  escape.  The  other  day,  in  one  of  these 
excursions,  he  fell  against  a  lamp-post,  cut  himself  much,  bled  a  good 
deal,  and  was  carried  home  by  two  gentlemen.  What  said  old  Rug- 
ged-and-Tough  ?  Why,  that  his  fall  against  the  post  was  the  luckiest 
thing  could  have  befallen  him,  for  the  bleeding  was  exactly  the  rem- 
edy for  his  disorder. 

"  Lo !  stout  hearts  of  men  !" 

Called  on  said  "uncle,"  also  on  David  Hume,  Lord  Chief-Com- 
missioner, Will  Clerk,  Mrs.  Jobson,  and  others.  My  knee  made  no 
allowance  for  my  politeness,  but  has  begun  to  swell  again,  and  to  burn 
like  a  scorpion's  bite. 

January  20. — Scarce  slept  all  night ;  scarce  able  to  stand  or  move 
this  morning ;  almost  an  absolute  fixture. 

"A  sleepless  knight, 
A  weary  knight, 

God  be  the  guide."4 

1   William  Giflbrd,  editor  Of  the  Anti-Jacobin  And  thtn't  lomeMng  which  ««n  Jalatte  mud  rapttt 

in  1797,  and  the  Quarterly  from  1809  to  1824.  In  <*•  •**«»"  <*ampfc  that  amoved  »<W«*." 
His  political  opponent,  Leigh  Hunt,  wrote  of 

him  in  1812 :—  »  Pee  Miscdl.  Prose  Works,  vol.  iv.  pp.  120-70. 

••William  Gifford'i  a  name.  T  think,  pretu-  well  known.  3  -Tames  Ferrier,  Esq.— See  p.  103,  February 

Oh  !  now  I  remember,"  said  Phoebus  ;-""  ah  true—  3,  1826. 

My  thanks  to  that  name  are  undoubtedly  due.  4  pee  Midsummer  Night1  s  Dream;  a  parody 

The  rod  that  (rot  rid  of  the  Cruscas  and  Lauras.  nn  Hplpna'« 

That  plajrue  of  the  butterflies  saved  me  the  horrors, 

The  Juvenal  too  stops  a  pap  in  my  shelf,  "O  weary  nifrht 

4t  least  in  what  Dryden  has  not  done  himself.  O  long  and  tedious  night," 


224  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

This  is  at  the  Court  a  blank  day,  being  that  of  the  poor  Duke  of 
York's  funeral.  I  can  sit  at  home,  luckily,  and  fag  hard. 

And  so  I  have,  pretty  well ;  six  leaves  written,  and  four  or  five 
proof-sheets  corrected.  Cadell  came  to  breakfast,  and  proposes  an 
eighth  volume  for  Napoleon.  I  told  him  he  might  write  to  Long- 
man for  their  opinion.  Seven  is  an  awkward  number,  and  will  ex- 
tremely cramp  the  work.  Eight,  too,  would  go  into  six  octavos, 
should  it  ever  be  called  for  in  that  shape.  But  it  shall  be  as  they 
list  to  have  it. 

January  21. — A  long  day  of  some  pain  relieved  by  labour.  Dr. 
Ross  came  in  and  recommended  some  stuff,  which  did  little  good.  I 
would  like  ill  to  lose  the  use  of  my  precious  limbs.  Meanwhile,  Pa- 
tience, cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards. 

Missie  dined  with  us  to-day — an  honest  Scotch  lass,  ladylike  and 
frank.  I  finished  about  six  leaves,  doing  indeed  little  else. 

January  22. — Work,  varied  with  camomile ;  we  get  on,  though. 
A  visit  from  Basil  Hall,  with  Mr.  Audubon  the  ornithologist,  who  has 
followed  that  pursuit  by  many  a  long  wandering  in  the  American 
forests.  He  is  an  American  by  naturalisation,  a  Frenchman  by 
birth ;'  but  less  of  a  Frenchman  than  I  have  ever  seen — no  dash,  or 
glimmer,  or  shine  about  him,  but  great  simplicity  of  manners  and  be- 
haviour ;  slight  in  person,  and  plainly  dressed ;  wears  long  hair,  which 
time  has  not  yet  tinged;  his  countenance  acute,  handsome,  and  in- 
teresting, but  still  simplicity  is  the  predominant  characteristic.  I 
wish  1  had  gone  to  see  his  drawings ;  but  I  had  heard  so  much  about 
them  that  I  resolved  not  to  see  them — "  a  crazy  way  of  mine,  your 
honour." — Five  more  leaves  finished. 

January  23. — I  have  got  a  piece  of  armour,  a  knee-cap  of  chamois 
leather,  which  I  think  does  my  unlucky  rheumatism  some  good.  I 
begin,  too,  to  sleep  at  night,  which  is  a  great  comfort.  Spent  this 
day  completely  in  labour ;  only  betwixt  dinner  and  tea,  while  hus- 
banding a  tumbler  of  whisky  and  water,  I  read  the  new  novel,  Eliza- 
beth de  Bruce* — part  of  it,  that  is. 

January  24. — Visit  from  Mr.  Audubon,  who  brings  some  of  his 
birds.  The  drawings  are  of  the  first  order — the  attitudes  of  the 
birds  of  the  most  animated  character,  and  the  situations  appropriate  ; 
one  of  a  snake  attacking  a  bird's  nest,  while  the  birds  (the  parents) 
peck  at  the  reptile's  eyes — they  usually,  in  the  long-run,  destroy  him, 

1  John  James  Audubon  was  born  in  Lousiana  the  Scotsman.    On  a  visit  to  Altrive  Mrs.  John- 

1n  the  United  States  in  1780,  but  educated  in  stone  and  her  party  were  kindly  received  by 

France. — Buchanan's  Lift  of  Audubon,  p.  4.  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  who  did  the  honours  of 

the  district,  and  among  other  places  took  them 

5  Written  by  Mrs.  J.  Johnstone,  in  after  years  to  a  Fairy  Well,  from  which  be  drew  a  glass  of 

editor  of  Tait's  Magazine,  well  known  also  as  sparkling  water.     Handing  it  to  the  lady  the 

the  author  of  Meg  Dods'  Cookery  Book,  which  bard  of  Kilmeny  said,  "Hae,  Mrs.  Johnstone, 

Sir  Walter  refers  to  in  St.  Ronaris  Well.     Her  ony  merrit  wumman  wha  drinks  a  tumbler  of 

sense  of  humour  and  power  of  delineating  char-  this  will  hae  twuns  in  atwalmont'I"    "  In  that 

acter  are  shown  in  her  stories  and  sketches  in  case,  Mr.  Hogg,"  replied  the  lady,  "  I  shall  only 

Tait,  and  a  good  example  of  her  ready  wit  has  take  half  a  tumbler." 

been  told  by  Mr.  Alexander  Russell,  editor  of  Mrs.  Johnstone  died  in  Edinburgh  in  1857. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  225 

says  the  naturalist.  The  feathers  of  these  gay  little  sylphs,  most  of 
them  from  the  Southern  States,  are  most  brilliant,  and  are  represented 
with  what,  were  it  [not]  connected  with  so  much  spirit  in  the  attitude, 
I  would  call  a  laborious  degree  of  execution.  This  extreme  correct- 
ness is  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  the  naturalist,  [but]  as  I  think 
(having  no  knowledge  of  virtu),  rather  gives  a  stiffness  to  the  draw- 
ings. This  sojourner  in  the  desert  had  been  in  the  woods  for  months 
together.  He  preferred  associating  with  the  Indians  to  the  company 
of  the  Back  Settlers ;  very  justly,  I  daresay,  for  a  civilised  man  of 
the  lower  order — that  is,  the  dregs  of  civilisation — when  thrust  back 
on  the  savage  state  becomes  worse  than  a  savage.  They  are  Words- 
worth's adventurer, 

"  Deliberate  and  undeceived 
The  wild  men's  vices  who  received, 
And  gave  them  back  his  own."1 

The  Indians,  he  says,  are  dying  fast ;  they  seem  to  pine  and  die 
whenever  the  white  population  approaches  them.  The  Shawanese, 
who  amounted,  Mr.  Audubon  says,  to  some  thousands  within  his 
memory,  are  almost  extinct,  and  so  are  various  other  tribes.  Mr. 
Audubon  could  never  hear  any  tradition  about  the  mammoth,  though 
he  made  anxious  inquiries.  .  He  gives  no  countenance  to  the  idea 
that  the  Red  Indians  were  ever  a  more  civilised  people  than  at  this 
day,  or  that  a  more  civilised  people  had  preceded  them  in  North 
America.  He  refers  the  bricks,  etc.,  occasionally  found,  and  appealed 
to  in  support  of  this  opinion,  to  the  earlier  settlers, — or,  where  kettles 
and  other  utensils  may  have  been  found,  to  the  early  trade  between 
the  Indians  and  the  Spaniards. 

John  Russell2  and  Leonard  Homer*  came  to  consult  me  about  the 
propriety  and  possibility  of  retaining  the  northern  pronunciation  of 
the  Latin  in  the  new  Edinburgh  Academy.4  I  will  think  of  it  until 
to-morrow,  being  no  great  judge.  We  had  our  solitary  dinner ;  in- 
deed, it  is  only  remarkable  nowadays  when  we  have  a  guest. 

January  25. — Thought  during  the  watches  of  the  night  and  a 
part  of  the  morning  about  the  question  of  Latin  pronunciation,  and 
came  to  the  following  conclusions.  That  the  mode  of  pronunciation 
approved  by  Buchanan  and  by  Milton,  and  practised  by  all  nations, 
excepting  the  English,  assimilated  in  sound,  too,  to  the  Spanish, 
Italian,  and  other  languages  derived  from  the  Latin,  is  certainly  the 

'  Slightly  varied  from  the  lines  in  Ruth, —  »  Leonard  Horner,  editor  in  after  years  of 

Poems,  vol.  ii.  p.  112,  Edinburgh,  1836.  the  Memoirs  of  his  brother  Francis  (2  vols.  8vo, 

s  John  Russell  (a  grandson  of  Principal  Rob-  London,  1843).    He  died  in  1864. 
ertson),  long  Chief  Clerk  in  the  Jury  Court, 

and  Treasurer  to  the  Royal  Society  and  the  4  See  Report  by  the  Directors  to  the  Proprie- 

Edinburgh  Academy.     He  took  a  keen  interest  tors  of  the  Edinburgh  Academy  on  the  Pronun- 

in  education,  and  published  in  October,  1855,  nation  of  Latin,  Edin.  1827.    Sir  Walter  always 

some  curious  Statistics  of  a  Class  [Christison's]  took  a  warm  interest  in  the  school.   His  speech 

in  the  High  School  [of  Edinburgh]  from  1787  to  as  Chairman  at  the  opening  ceremony,  on  the 

1791,  of  which  he  had  been  a  member.     Mr.  1st  October,  1824,  is  quoted  in  the  Life,  vol.  vii. 

Russell  died  on  January  30, 1862.  p.  268. 
15 


226  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

best,  and  is  likewise  useful  as  facilitating  the  acquisition  of  sounds 
which  the  Englishman  attemps  in  vain.  Accordingly  I  wish  the 
cockneyfied  pedant  who  first  disturbed  it  by  reading  Emo  for  Amo, 
and  guy  for  qui,  had  choked  in  the  attempt.  But  the  question  is, 
whether  a  youth  who  has  been  taught  in  a  manner  different  from 
that  used  all  over  England  will  be  heard,  if  he  presumes  to  use  his 
Latin  at  the  bar  or  the  senate ;  and  if  he  is  to  be  unintelligible  or 
ludicrous,  the  question  [arises]  whether  his  education  is  not  imper- 
fect under  one  important  view.  I  am  very  unwilling  to  sacrifice  our 
sumpsimus  to  their  old  mumpsimus — still  more  to  humble  ourselves 
before  the  Saxons  while  we  can  keep  an  inch  of  the  Scottish  flag  fly- 
ing. But  this  is  a  question  which  must  be  decided  not  on  partialities 
or  prejudices. 

I  got  early  from  the  Court  to-day,  and  settled  myself  to  work 
hard. 

January  26. — My  rheumatism  is  almost  gone.  I  can  walk  with- 
out Major  Weir,  which  is  the  name  Anne  gives  my  cane,  because  it 
is  so  often  out  of  the  way  that  it  is  suspected,  like  the  staff  of  that 
famous  wizard,1  to  be  capable  of  locomotion.  Went  to  Court,  and 
tarried  till  three  o'clock,  after  which  transacted  business  with  Mr. 
Gibson  and  Dr.  Inglis  as  one  of  Miss  Hume's  trustees.  Then  was  in- 
troduced to  young  Mr.  Rennie,4  or  he  to  me,  by  [Sir]  James  Hall,  a 
genteel-looking  young  man,  and  speaks  well.  He  was  called  into 
public  notice  by  having,  many  years  before,  made  a  draught  of  a  plan 
of  his  father's  for  London  Bridge.  It  was  sought  for  when  the  build- 
ing was  really  about  to  take  place,  and  the  assistance  which  young 
Mr.  Rennie  gave  to  render  it  useful  raised  his  character  so  high,  that 
his  brother  and  he  are  now  in  first-rate  practice  as  civil  engineers. 

January  27. — Read  Elizabeth  de  Bruce ;  it  is  very  clever,  but  does 
not  show  much  originality.  The  characters,  though  very  entertain- 
ing, are  in  the  manner  of  other  authors,  and  the  finished  and  filled-up 
portraits  of  which  the  sketches  are  to  be  found  elsewhere.  One  is 
too  apt  to  feel  on  such  occasions  the  pettish  resentment  that  you 
might  entertain  against  one  who  had  poached  on  your  manor.  But 
the  case  is  quite  different,  and  a  claim  set  up  on  having  been  the  first 
who  betook  himself  to  the  illustration  of  some  particular  class  of 
character,  or  department  of  life,  is  no  more  a  right  of  monopoly  than 
that  asserted  by  the  old  buccaneers  by  setting  up  a  wooden  cross,  and 
killing  an  Indian  or  two  on  some  new  discovered  island.  If  they  can 
make  anything  of  their  first  discovery,  the  better  luck  theirs ;  if  not, 
let  others  come,  penetrate  further  into  the  country,  write  descriptions, 
make  drawings  or  settlements  at  their  pleasure. 

We  were  kept  in  Parliament  House  till  three.  Called  to  return 
thanks  to  Mr.  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  who  lent  some  pamphlets  about 


1  Burnt  at  Edinburgh  in  1670 Sec  Arnot's          3  Afterwards  Sir  John  Rennie,  knighted  on 

Crtnt.  Trials.    4to,  Edin.  1785.  the  completion  of  the  Bridge. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  227 

the  unhappy  Duke  d'Enghien.  Read  in  the  evening  Boutourlin  and 
Segur,  to  prepare  for  my  Russian  campaign. 

January  28. — Continued  my  reading  with  the  commentary  of  the 
D.  of  W.1  If  his  broad  shoulders  cannot  carry  me  through,  the  devil 
must  be  in  the  dice.  Longman  and  Company  agree  to  the  eight  vol- 
umes. It  will  make  the  value  of  the  book  more  than  £12,000. 
Wrought  indifferent  hard. 

January  29. — Mr.  Gibson  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Marshman,2  the 
head  of  the  missionaries  at  Serampore,  a  great  Oriental  scholar.  He 
is  a  thin,  dark-featured,  middle-sized  man,  about  fifty  or  upwards,  his 
eye  acute,  his  hair  just  beginning  to  have  a  touch  of  the  grey.  He 
spoke  well  and  sensibly,  and  seemed  liberal  in  his  ideas.  He  was 
clearly  of  opinion  that  general  information  must  go  hand  in  hand,  or 
even  ought  to  precede  religious  instruction.  Thinks  the  influence  of 
European  manners  is  gradually  making  changes  in  India.  The  na- 
tives, so  far  as  their  religion  will  allow  them,  are  become  fond  of  Eu- 
ropeans, and  invite  them  to  their  great  festivals.  He  has  a  conceit 
that  the  Afghans  are  the  remains  of  the  Ten  Tribes.  I  cannot  find 
he  has  a  better  reason  than  their  own  tradition,  which  calls  them 
Ben-Israel,  and  says  they  are  not  Ben-Judah.  They  have  Jewish  rites 
and  ceremonies,  but  so  have  all  Mahometans ;  neither  could  I  under- 
stand that  their  language  has  anything  peculiar.  The  worship  of 
Bhoodah  he  conceives  to  have  [been]  an  original,  or  rather  the  orig- 
inal, of  Hindu  religion,  until  the  Brahmins  introduced  the  doctrines 
respecting  caste  and  other  peculiarities.  But  it  would  require  strong 
proof  to  show  that  the  superstition  of  caste  could  be  introduced  into 
a  country  which  had  been  long  peopled,  and  where  society  had  long 
existed  without  such  restriction.  It  is  more  like  to  be  adopted  in  the 
early  history  of  a  tribe,  when  there  are  but  few  individuals,  the  de- 
scent of  whom  is  accurately  preserved.  How  could  the  castes  be  dis- 
tinguished or  told  off  in  a  populous  nation  ?  Dr.  Marshman  was  an 
old  friend  of  poor  John  Leyden. 

January  30. — Blank  day  at  Court,  being  the  Martyrdom.  Wrought 
hard  at  Bon.  all  day,  though  I  had  settled  otherwise.  I  ought  to  have 
been  at  an  article  for  John  Lockhart,  and  one  for  poor  Gillies ;  but 
there  is  something  irresistible  in  contradiction,  even  when  it  consists 
in  doing  a  thing  equally  laborious,  but  not  the  thing  you  are  especial- 
ly called  upon  to  do.  It  is  a  kind  of  cheating  the  devil,  which  a  self- 
willed  monster  like  me  is  particularly  addicted  to.  Not  to  make  my- 
self worse  than  I  am  though,  I  was  full  of  information  about  the 
Russian  campaign,  which  might  evaporate  unless  used,  like  lime,  as 
soon  after  it  was  wrought  up  as  possible.  About  three,  Pitfoddels 
called.  A  bauld  crack  that  auld  papist  body,  and  well  informed.  We 
got  on  religion.  He  is  very  angry  with  the  Irish  demagogues,  and  a 


1  See  ante,  p.  201.  and  post,  p.  234.  man's  Lives  of  Carey,  Marshman,  and  Ward. 

3  Dr.  Marshman  died  in  1837.    See  Marsh-      London,  2  vols.  8vo,  1859. 


228  JOURNAL  [.IAN.  1827. 

sound  well-thinking  man.1  Heard  of  Walter  and  Jane  ;  all  well,  God 
be  praised ! 

By  a  letter  from  Gibson  I  see  the  gross  proceeds  of  Bonaparte,  at 

eight  volumes,  are £12,600     0     0 

Discount,  five  months 210     0     0 

£12,390     0     0 

I  question  if  more  was  ever  made  by  a  single  work,  or  by  a  single  au- 
thor's labours,  in  the  same  time.  But  whether  it  is  deserved  or  not 
is  the  question. 

January  31. — Young  Murray,  son  of  Mr.  M.,  in  Albemarle  Street, 
breakfasted  with  me.  English  boys  have  this  advantage,  that  they 
are  well-bred,  and  can  converse  when  ours  are  regular-built  cubs.  I 
am  not  sure  if  it  is  an  advantage  in  the  long-run.  It  is  a  temptation 
to  premature  display. 

Wet  to  the  skin  coming  from  the  Court.  Called  on  Skene,  to  give 
him,  for  the  Antiquarian  Society,  a  heart,  human  apparently,  stuck 
full  of  pins.  It  was  found  lying  opposite  to  the  threshold  of  an  old 
tenement  in  [Dalkeith],  a  little  below  the  surface ;  it  is  in  perfect 
preservation.  Dined  at  the  Bannatyne  Club,  where  I  am  chairman. 
We  admitted  a  batch  of  new  members,  chiefly  noblemen  and  men 
connected  with  the  public  offices  and  records  in  London,  such  as  Pal- 
grave,  Petrie,  etc.  We  drank  to  our  old  Scottish  heroes,  poets,  his- 
torians, and  printers,  and  were  funny  enough,  though,  like  Shylock, 
I  had  no  will  to  go  abroad.  I  was  supported  by  Lord  Minto  and 
Lord  Eldin. 

1  John  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  the  last  of  an  tate  of  Blairs,  near  Aberdeen,  for  the  founda- 

old  Aberdeenshire  family,  of  whom  it  was  said  tion  of  the  Roman  Catholic  College  established 

that  for  thirty-seven  years  he  never  became  there,  and  was  also  a  munificent  benefactor  to 

aware  of  distress  or  difficulty  without  exerting  the  Convent  of  St.  Margaret,  Edinburgh,  open- 

himself  to  relieve  it.     In  1828  he  gave  the  es-  ed  in  1835.     Mr.  Menzies  died  in  1843. 


FEBRUARY 

February  1. — I  feel  a  return  of  the  cursed  rheumatism.  How 
could  it  miss,  with  my  wetting?  Also  feverish,  and  a  slight  head- 
ache. So  much  for  claret  and  champagne.  I  begin  to  be  quite  unfit 
for  a  good  fellow.  Like  Mother  Cole  in  the  Minor,  a  thimbleful 
upsets  me,1 — I  mean,  annoys  my  stomach,  for  my  brains  do  not  suf- 
fer. Well,  I  have  had  my  time  of  these  merry  doings. 

"  The  haunch  of  the  deer,  and  the  wine's  red  dye, 
Never  bard  loved  them  better  than  I." 

But  it  was  for  the  sake  of  sociality  ;  never  either  for  the  flask  or  the 
venison.  That  must  end — is  ended.  The  evening  sky  of  life  does 
not  reflect  those  brilliant  flashes  of  light  that  shot  across  its  morning 
and  noon.  Yet  I  thank  God  it  is  neither  gloomy  nor  disconsolately 
lowering ;  a  sober  twilight — that  is  all. 

I  am  in  great  hopes  that  the  Bannatyne  Club,  by  the  assistance 
of  Thomson's  wisdom,  industry,  and  accuracy,  will  be  something  far 
superior  to  the  Dilettanti  model  on  which  it  started.  The  Historie 
of  K.  James  VI.,  Melville1  s  Memoirs,  and  other  works,  executed  or  in 
hand,  are  decided  boons  to  Scottish  history  and  literature. 

February  2. — In  confirmation  of  that  which  is  above  stated,  I  see 
in  Thorpe's  sale-catalogue  a  set  of  the  Bannatyne  books,  lacking  five, 
priced  £25.  Had  a  dry  walk  from  the  Court  by  way  of  dainty,  and 
made  it  a  long  one.  Anne  went  at  night  to  Lady  Minto's. 

Hear  of  Miss  White's  death.  Poor  Lydia !  she  had  a  party  at 
dinner  on  the  Friday  before,  and  had  written  with  her  own  hand  in- 
vitations for  another  party.  Twenty  years  ago  she  used  to  tease  me 
with  her  youthful  affectations — her  dressing  like  the  Queen  of  Chim- 
ney-sweeps on  May-day  morning,  and  sometimes  with  rather  a  free 
turn  in  conversation,  when  she  let  her  wit  run  wild.  But  she  was  a 
woman  of  much  wit,  and  had  a  feeling  and  kind  heart.  She  made 
her  point  good,  a  bas-bleu  in  London  to  a  point  not  easily  attained, 
and  contrived  to  have  every  evening  a  very  good  literary  melee,  and 
little  dinners  which  were  very  entertaining.  She  had  also  the  new- 
est lions  upon  town.  In  a  word,  she  was  not  and  would  not  be  for- 
gotten, even  when  disease  obliged  her,  as  it  did  for  years,  to  confine 
herself  to  her  couch ;  and  the  world,  much  abused  for  hard-hearted- 
ness,  was  kind  in  her  case — so  she  lived  in  the  society  she  liked. 

1  Foote's  Comedy,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 


230  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

No  great  expenditure  was  necessary  for  this.  She  had  an  easy  fort- 
une, but  not  more.  Poor  Lydia !  I  saw  the  Duke  of  York  and  her 
in  London,  when  Death,  it  seems,  was  brandishing  his  dart  over  them.1 

"  The  view  o't  gave  them  little  fright."* 

Did  not  get  quite  a  day's  work  finished  to  -  day,  thanks  to  my 
walk. 

February  3. — There  is  nought  but  care  on  every  hand.  James 
Hogg  writes  that  he  is  to  lose  his  farm,3  on  which  he  laid  out,  or 
rather  threw  away,  the  profit  of  all  his  publications. 

Then  Terry  has  been  pressed  by  Gibson  for  my  debt  to  him. 
That  I  may  get  managed. 

I  sometimes  doubt  if  I  am  in  what  the  good  people  call  the  right 
way.  Not  to  sing  my  own  praises,  I  have  been  willing  always  to  do 
my  friends  what  good  was  in  my  power,  and  have  not  shunned  per- 
sonal responsibility.  But  then  that  was  in  money  matters,  to  which 
I  am  naturally  indifferent,  unless  when  the  consequences  press  on 
me.  But  then  I  am  a  bad  comforter  in  case  of  inevitable  calamity ; 
and  feeling  proudly  able  to  endure  in  my  own  case,  I  cannot  sympa- 
thise with  those  whose  nerves  are  of  a  feebler  texture. 

Dined  at  Jeffrey's,  with  Lord  and  Lady  Minto,  John  Murray  and 
his  lady,*  a  Mr.  Featherstone,  an  Americo  -  Yorkshireman,  and  some 
others.  Mrs.  Murray  is  a  very  amiable  person,  and  seems  highly  ac- 
complished ;  plays  most  brilliantly. 

February  4. — R.R.  These  two  letters,  you  must  understand,  do 
not  signify,  as  in  Bibliomania  phrase,  a  double  degree  of  rarity,  but, 
chirurgically,  a  double  degree  of  rheumatism.  The  wine  gets  to  weak 
places,  Ross  says.  I  have  a  letter  from  no  less  a  person  than  that 
pink  of  booksellers,  Sir  Richard  Phillips,  who,  it  seems,  has  been 
ruined,  and  as  he  sees  me  floating  down  the  same  dark  tide,  sings 
out  his  nos  poma  natamus. 

February  5. — R.  One  R.  will  do  to-day.  If  this  cursed  rheumatism 
gives  way  to  February  weather,  I  will  allow  she  has  some  right  to  be 
called  a  spring  month,  to  which  otherwise  her  pretensions  are  slender. 
I  worked  this  morning  till  two  o'clock,  and  visited  Mr.  Grant's'  pict- 

1  Scott,  who  had  accompanied  this  lady  to  val  Miss  Rigby,  a  Lancashire  lady,  who  was 

the  Highlands  in  the  summer  of  1808,  wrote  long  known  in  Edinburgh  for  her  hospitality 

from  Edinburgh  on  19th  January: — "  We  have  and  fine  social  qualities  as  Lady  Murray.    (See 

here  a  very  diverting  lion  and  sundry  wild  page  247,  April  2.  1827.)    Miss  Martineau  cele- 

beasts;  but  the  most  meritorious  is  Miss  Lydia  brated  her  parliamentary  Tea-Table  in  London. 

White,  who  is  what  Oxonians  call  a  lioness  of  when  her  husband  was  Lord  Advocate,  and 

the  first  order,  with  stockings  nineteen  times  Lord  Cockburn,  the  delights  of  Strachur  on 

dyed  blue;  very  lively,  very  good-humoured,  Loch  Fyne. 
and  extremely  absurd.     It  is  very  diverting  to 

see  the  sober  Scotch  ladies  staring  at  this  phe-          *  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir  Francis)  Grant  became 

noraenon." — Life,  vol.  iii.  pp.  38,  95,  96.  a  member  of  the  Scottish  Academy  in  1830,  an 

*  Burns's  "Twa  Dogs." — j.  a.  L.  associate  of  Royal  Academy  in  1842,  and  Aca- 

3  Mount  Benger.  demician  in  1851.    His  successful  career  as  a 

«  John  Archibald  Murray,  whose  capital  bach-  painter  secured  his  elevation  to  tlie  President- 

elors'  dinner  on  Dec.  8  Scott  so  pleasantly  de-  ship  of  the  Academy  in  1866.    Sir  Francis  died 

scribes  (on  page  210),  had  married  in  the  inter-  at  Melton-Mowbray  in  October,  1878,  aged  75. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  231 

ures,  who  has  them  upon  sale.  They  seem,  to  my  inexperienced  eye, 
genuine,  or  at  least,  good  paintings.  But  I  fear  picture-buying,  like 
horse-jockeyship,  is  a  profession  a  gentleman  cannot  make  much  of 
without  laying  aside  some  of  his  attributes.  The  pictures  are  too 
high-priced,  I  should  think,  for  this  market.  There  is  a  very  know- 
ing catalogue  by  Frank  Grant  himself.  Next  went  to  see  a  show  of 
wild  beasts  ;  it  was  a  fine  one.  I  think  they  keep  them  much  cleaner 
than  formerly,  when  the  strong  smell  generally  gave  me  a  headache 
for  the  day.  The  creatures  are  also  much  tamer,  which  I  impute  to 
more  knowledge  of  their  habits  and  kind  treatment.  A  lion  and  ti* 
gress  went  through  their  exercise  like  poodles — jumping,  standing, 
and  lying  down  at  the  word  of  command.  This  is  rather  degrading. 
I  would  have  the  Lord  Chancellor  of  Beasts  good  -  humoured,  not 
jocose.  I  treated  the  elephant,  who  was  a  noble  fellow,  to  a  shilling's 
worth  of  cakes.  I  wish  I  could  have  enlarged  the  space  in  which  so 
much  bulk  and  wisdom  is  confined.  He  kept  swinging  his  head 
from  side  to  side,  looking  as  if  he  marvelled  why  all  the  fools  that 
gaped  at  him  were  at  liberty,  and  he  cooped  up  in  the  cage. 

Dined  at  the  Royal  Society  Club — about  thirty  present.  Went 
to  the  Society  in  the  evening,  and  heard  an  essay  by  Peter  Tytler1  on 
the  first  encourager  of  Greek  learning  in  England.3 

February  6. — Was  at  our  Court  till  two ;  afterwards  wrote  a 
good  deal,  which  has  become  a  habit  with  me.  Dined  at  Sir  John 
Hay's,  where  met  the  Advocate  and  a  pleasant  party.  There  had 
been  a  Justiciary  trial  yesterday,  in  which  something  curious  had 
occurred.  A  woman  of  rather  the  better  class,  a  farmer's  wife,  had 
been  tried  on  the  5th  for  poisoning  her  maid-servant.  There  seems 
to  have  been  little  doubt  of  her  guilt,  but  the  motive  was  peculiar. 
The  unfortunate  girl  had  an  intrigue  with  her  son,  which  this  Mrs. 
Smith  (I  think  that  is  the  name)  was  desirous  to  conceal,  from  some 
ill-advised  puritanic  notions,  and  also  for  fear  of  her  husband.  She 
could  find  no  better  way  of  hiding  the  shame  than  giving  the  girl 
(with  her  own  knowledge  and  consent,  I  believe)  potions  to  cause 
abortion,  which  she  afterwards  changed  for  arsenic,  as  the  more  ef- 
fectual silencing  medicine.  In  the  course  of  the  trial  one  of  the  jury 
fell  down  in  an  epileptic  fit,  and  on  his  recovery  was  far  too  much 
disordered  to  permit  the  trial  to  proceed.  With  only  fourteen  jury- 
men it  was  impossible  to  go  on.  But  the  Advocate,  Sir  William 

1  Patrick  Fraser  Tytler,  the  Scottish  histo-  The  Birds  of  America,  commenced  in  1827,  and 

rian.  He  died  on  Christmas  -  day,  1849.  aged  was  completed  in  1839,  forming  4  vols.  in  the 

flfty-eight. — See  Burgon's  Memoirs,  8vo,  Lond.  largest  folio  size,  and  containing  435  plates.  It 

1859.  shows  the  indomitable  courage  of  the  author, 

that  even  when  the  work  was  completed,  he 

*  Audubon  says  in  his  Journal  of  the  same  had  only  161  subscribers,  82  of  whom  were  in 

date :— "  Captain  Hall  led  me  to  a  seat  immedi-  America.  The  price  of  the  book  was  two  guin- 

ately  opposite  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  Presi-  eas  for  each  part  with  five  coloured  plates.  Dur- 

dent,  where  I  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  great  ing  the  last  dozen  years  its  price  at  auctions  runs 

man,  and  studied  Nature  from  Nature's  no-  about  £250  to  £300.  Audubon  died  in  New 

blest  work."  York  in  1851. —See  Life,  by  Buchanan,  8vo, 

The  publication  of  Audubon's  great  work,  London,  1866. 


232  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

Rae,  says  she  shall  be  tried  anew,  since  she  has  not  tholed  an  assize. 
Sic  Paulus  ait — et  recte  quidem.  But,  having  been  half  tried,  I  think 
she  should  have  some  benefit  of  it,  as  far  as  saving  her  life,  if  con- 
victed on  the  second  indictment.  The  Advocate  declares,  however, 
she  shall  be  hanged,  as  certainly  she  deserves.  But  it  looks  some- 
thing like  hanging  up  a  man  who  has  been  recovered  by  the  sur- 
geons, which  has  always  been  accounted  harsh  justice. 

February  7. — Wrote  six  leaves  to-day,  and  am  tired — that's  all. 

February  8. — I  lost  much  time  to-day.  I  got  from  the  Court 
about  half-past  twelve,  therefore  might  have  reckoned  on  four  hours, 
or  three  at  least,  before  dinner.  But  I  had  to  call  on  Dr.  Shortt  at 
two,  which  made  me  lounge  till  that  hour  came.  Then  I  missed  him, 
and,  too  tired  to  return,  went  to  see  the  exhibition,  where  Skene  was 
hanging  up  the  pictures,  and  would  not  let  me  in.  Then  to  the  Oil 
Gas  Company,  who  propose  to  send  up  counsel  to  support  their  new 
bill.  As  I  thought  the  choice  unadvisedly  made,  I  fairly  opposed 
the  mission,  which,  I  suppose,  will  give  much  offence  ;  but  I  have  no 
notion  of  being  shamefaced  in  doing  my  duty,  and  I  do  not  think  I 
should  permit  forward  persons  to  press  into  situations  for  which 
their  vanity  alone  renders  them  competent.  Had  many  proof-sheets 
to  correct  in  the  evening. 

February  9. — We  had  a  long  day  of  it  at  Court,  but  I  whipped 
you  off  half-a-dozen  of  letters,  for,  as  my  cases  stood  last  on  the  roll, 
I  could  do  what  I  liked  in  the  interim.  This  carried  me  on  till  two 
o'clock.  Called  on  Baron  Hume,  and  found  him,  as  usual,  in  high 
spirits,  notwithstanding  his  late  illness.  Then  crept  home — my  rheu- 
matism much  better,  though.  Corrected  lives  of  Lord  Somerville 
and  the  King  [George  in.] l  for  the  Prose  Works,  which  took  a  long 
time ;  but  I  had  the  whole  evening  to  myself,  as  Anne  diued  with 
the  Swintons,  and  went  to  a  ball  at  the  Justice-Clerk's.  N.B. — It  is 
the  first  and  only  ball  which  has  been  given  this  season — a  sign  the 
times  are  pinching. 

February  10. — I  got  a  present  of  Lord  Francis  Gower's  printed 
but  unpublished  Tale  of  the  Mill?  It  is  a  fine  tale  of  terror  in  itself, 
and  very  happily  brought  out.  He  has  certainly  a  true  taste  for  po- 
etry. I  do  not  know  why,  but  from  my  childhood  I  have  seen  some- 
thing fearful,  or  melancholy  at  least,  about  a  mill.  Whether  I  had 
been  frightened  at  the  machinery  when  very  young,  of  which  I  think 
I  have  some  shadowy  recollection — whether  I  had  heard  the  stories 
of  the  miller  of  Thirlestane  *  and  similar  molendinar  tragedies,  I  can- 
not tell ;  but  not  even  recollection  of  the  Lass  of  Patie's  Mill,  or  the 
Miller  of  Mansfield,  or  he  who  "  dwelt  on  the  river  Dee,"  have  ever 
got  ovei  my  inclination  to  connect  gloom  with  a  mill,  especially  when 

1  Biographical  Notices  had  been  sent  to  the  *  Afterwards  included  in  Tfte  Pilgrimage  and 

Weekly  Journal  in  1826,  and  are  now  included  other  Poems,  Lend.  1856. 

in  the  Miscdl.  Prose  Works,  vol.  iv.  pp.  322-  3  See  Craig  Brown's  Selkirkshire,  vol.  i.  pp. 

342.  285-86. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  233 

sun  is  setting.  So  I  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  terror  with  which 
Lord  Francis  has  invested  his  haunted  spot.  I  dine  with  the  Solici- 
tor to-day,  so  quoad  labour  'tis  a  blank.  But  then  to-morrow  is  a  new 
day. 

"  To-morrow  to  fresh  meads  and  pastures  new."  l 

February  11. — Wrought  a  good  deal  in  the  morning,  and  landed 
Boney  at  Smolensk.  But  I  have  him  to  bring  off  again ;  and,  more- 
over, I  must  collate  the  authorities  on  the  movements  of  the  second- 
ary armies  of  Witgenstein  and  the  Admiral  with  the  break -tooth 
name.  Dined  with  Lord  Minto,  where  I  met  Thomson,  Cranstoun, 
and  other  gay  folks.  These  dinner  parties  narrow  my  working  hours  ; 
yet  they  must  sometimes  be,  or  one  would  fall  out  of  the  line  of  so- 
ciety, and  go  to  leeward  entirely,  which  is  not  right  to  venture.  This 
is  the  high  time  for  parties  in  Edinburgh ;  no  wonder  one  cannot 
keep  clear. 

February  12. — I  was  obliged  to  read  instead  of  writing,  and  the 
infernal  Russian  names,  which  everybody  spells  ad  libitum,  makes  it 
difficult  to  trace  the  operations  on  a  better  map  than  mine.  I  called 
to-day  on  Dr.  Shortt,  principal  surgeon  at  Saint  Helena,  and  who  pre- 
sided at  the  opening  of  Bonaparte's  body.  He  mentions  as  certain 
the  falsehood  of  a  number  of  the  assertions  concerning  his  usage, 
the  unhealthy  state  of  the  island,  and  so  forth.  I  have  jotted  down 
his  evidence  elsewhere.  I  could  not  write  when  I  came  home.  Ner- 
vous a  little,  I  think,  and  not  yet  up  to  the  motions  of  Tchitchagoff, 
as  I  must  be  before  I  can  write.  Will  [Clerk]  and  Sir  A.  Ferguson 
dine  here  to-day — the  first  time  any  one  has  had  that  honour  for 
long  enough,  unless  at  Abbotsford.  The  good  Lord  Chief -Commis- 
sioner invited  himself,  and  I  asked  his  son,  Admiral  Adam.  Col.  Fer- 
guson is  of  the  party. 

February  13. — The  dining  parties  come  thick,  and  interfere  with 
work  extremely.  I  am,  however,  beforehand  very  far.  Yet,  as  James 
B.  says — the  tortoise  comes  up  with  the  hare.  So  Puss  must  make 
a  new  start;  but  not  this  week.  Went  to  see  the  exhibition — cer- 
tainly a  good  one  for  Scotland — and  less  trash  than  I  have  seen  at 
Somerset-House  (begging  pardon  of  the  pockpuddings).  There  is  a 
beautiful  thing  by  Landseer — a  Highlander  and  two  stag-hounds  en- 
gaged with  a  deer.  Very  spirited,  indeed.  I  forgot  my  rheuma- 
tism, and  could  have  wished  myself  of  the  party.  There  were  many 
fine  folks,  and  there  was  a  collation,  chocolate,  and  so  forth.  We 
dine  at  Sir  H.  Jardine's,  with  Lord  Ch.-Com.,  Lord  Chief-Baron,  etc. 

February  14. — "  Death's  gi'en  the  art  an  unco  devel." a  Sir  George 
Beaumont's  dead ;  by  far  the  most  sensible  and  pleasing  man  I  ever 
knew  ;  kind,  too,  in  his  nature,  and  generous ;  gentle  in  society,  and 

1  -Milton's  Lycidas.  varied.  '  "  Death'*  gi'en  the  Lodge  an  unco  devel, 

Tarn  Samson's  de»d." 

Burns.— i.  a.  L. 


234 


JOURNAL 


[FEB. 


of  those  mild  manners  which  tend  to  soften  the  causticity  of  the  gen- 
eral London  [tone]  of  persiflage  and  personal  satire.  As  an  amateur, 
he  was  a  painter  of  the  very  highest  rank.  Though  I  know  nothing 
of  the  matter,  yet  I  should  hold  him  a  perfect  critic  on  painting,  for 
he  always  made  his  criticisms  intelligible,  and  used  no  slang.  I  am 
very  sorry,  as  much  as  is  in  my  nature  to  be,  for  one  whom  I  could 
see  but  seldom.  He  was  the  great  friend  of  Wordsworth,  and  un- 
derstood his  poetry,  which  is  a  rare  thing,  for  it  is  more  easy  to  see 
his  peculiarities  than  to  feel  his  great  merit,  or  follow  his  abstract 
ideas.  I  dined  to-day  at  Lord  Ch. -Commissioner's — Lord  Minto,  and 
Lord  Ch.-Baron,  also  Harden.  Little  done  to-day. 

February  15. — Rheumatism  returns  with  the  snow.  I  had  thoughts 
of  going  to  Abbotsford  on  Saturday,  but  if  this  lasts,  it  will  not  do ; 
and,  sooth  to  speak,  it  ought  not  to  do ;  though  it  would  do  me  much 
pleasure  if  it  would  do. 

I  have  a  letter  from  Baron  Von  Goethe,1  which  I  must  have  read 
to  me ;  for  though  I  know  German,  I  have  forgot  their  written  hand. 
I  pake  it  a  rule  seldom  to  read,  and  never  to  answer,  foreign  letters 
from  literary  folks.  It  leads  to  nothing  but  the  battle-dore  and  shut- 
tle-cock intercourse  of  compliments,  as  light  as  cork  and  feathers. 
But  Goethe  is  different,  and  a  wonderful  fellow,  the  Ariosto  at  once, 
and  almost  the  Voltaire  of  Germany.  Who  could  have  told  me  thirty 
years  ago  I  should  correspond,  and  be  on  something  like  an  equal 
footing,  with  the  author  of  Goetz  ?  Ay,  and  who  could  have  told  me 
fifty  things  else  that  have  befallen  me  f 


1  For  letter  and  reply  see  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp. 
92,98. 

8  Sir  Walter  at  this  date  returned  the  valua- 
ble MSB.  lent  him  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in 
Nov.  1826  (see  ante,  p.  200)  with  the  following 
letter:— 

"  EnixBUKOH,  1«A  February  1887. 

"My  dear  Lord  Duke, — The  two  manuscripts 
safely  packed  leave  this  by  post  to-day,  as  I 
am  informed  your  Grace's  franks  carry  any 
weight.  *  *  * 

"1  have  been  reading  with  equal  instruction 
and  pleasure  the  memoir  on  the  Russian  cam- 
paign, which  demonstrates  as  plainly  as  pos- 
sible that  the  French  writers  have  taken  ad- 
vantage of  the  snow  to  cover  under  it  all  their 
General's  blunders,  and  impute  to  it  all  their 
losses.  This  I  observe  is  Bonaparte's  general 
practice,  and  that  of  his  admirers.  Whenever 
they  can  charge  anything  upon  the  elements 
or  upon  accident,  he  and  they  combine  in  de- 
nying all  bravery  and  all  wisdom  to  their  ene- 
mies. The  conduct  of  Kutusow  on  more  than 
one  occasion  in  the  retreat  seems  to  have  been 
singularly  cautious,  or  rather  timorous.  For 
it  is  Impossible  to  give  credit  to  the  immense 
superiority  claimed  by  St5gur,  Beauchamp,  etc., 
for  the  French  troops  over  the  Russians.  Sure- 
ly they  were  the  same  Russians  who  hud  fought 
•o  bravely  against  superior  force,  and  how 
should  the  twentieth  part  of  the  French  army 
have  been  able  to  clear  their  way  without  cav- 


alry or  artillery  in  a  great  measure?  and  it 
seems  natural  to  suppose  that  we  must  impute 
to  tardy  and  inactive  conduct  on  the  part  of 
their  General  what  we  cannot  account  for  on 
the  idea  of  the  extremely  superior  valour  or 
discipline  claimed  for  the  French  soldiers  by 
their  country.  The  snow  seems  to  have  be- 
come serious  on  the  6th  November,  when  Na- 
poleon was  within  two  marches  of  Smolensk, 
which  he  soon  after  reached,  and  by  that  time 
it  appears  to  me  that  his  army  was  already 
mouldered  away  from  100,000  men  who  left 
Moscow,  to  about  35,000  only,  so  that  his  great 
loss  was  incurred  before  the  snow  began. 

'•I  am  afraid  your  Grace  has  done  me  an  un- 
paralleled injury  in  one  respect,  that  the  clear- 
ness, justice,  and  precision  of  your  Grace's  rea- 
soning puts  me  out  of  all  patience  with  my  own 
attempts.  I  dare  hardly  hope  in  this  increase 
of  business  for  a  note  or  two  on  Waterloo;  but 
if  your  Grace  had  any,  however  hasty,  which 
could  be  copied  by  a  secretary,  the  debt  would 
be  never  to  be  forgotten. 

"I  am  going  to  mention  a  circumstance, 
which  I  do  with  great  apprehension,  lest  I 
should  be  thought  to  intrude  upon  your  Grace's 
goodness.  It  respects  a  youth,  the  son  of  one 
of  my  most  intimate  friends,  a  gentleman  of 
good  family  and  fortune,  who  is  extremely  de- 
sirous of  being  admitted  a  cadet  of  artillery. 
His  father  is  the  best  draughtsman  in  Scotland, 
and  the  lad  himself  shows  a  great  deal  of  talent 
both  in  science  and  the  ordinary  branches  of 


1827.]  JOURNAL 

February  16. — R.  Still  snow  ;  and,  alas !  no  time  for  work,  so  hard 
am  I  fagged  by  the  Court  and  the  good  company  of  Edinburgh.  I 
almost  wish  my  rheumatics  were  bad  enough  to  give  me  an  apology 
for  staying  a  week  at  home.  But  we  have  Sunday  and  Monday  clear. 
If  not  better,  I  will  cribb  off  Tuesday  ;  and  Wednesday  is  Teind 
day.  We  dined  to-day  with  Mr.  Borthwick,  younger  of  Crookston. 

February  17. — James  Ferguson  ill  of  the  rheumatism  in  head 
and  neck,  and  Hector  B.  Macdonald  in  neck  and  shoulders.  I  won- 
der, as  Commodore  Trunnion  says,  what  the  blackguard  hell's-baby 
has  to  say  to  the  Clerks  of  Session.1  Went  to  the  Second  Division 
to  assist  Hector.  N.B. — Don't  like  it  half  so  well  as  my  own,  for 
the  speeches  are  much  longer.  Home  at  dinner,  and  wrought  in  the 
evening. 

February  18. — Very  cold  weather.  I  am  rather  glad  I  am  not  iu 
the  country.  What  says  Dean  Swift — 

"  When  frost  and  snow  come  both  together, 
Then  sit  by  the  fire  and  save  shoe  leather." 

Wrought  all  morning  and  finished  five  pages.     Missie  dined  with  us. 

February  19. — As  well  I  give  up  Abbotsford,  for  Hamilton  is  laid 
up  with  the  gout.  The  snow,  too,  continues  with  a  hard  frost.  I 
have  seen  the  day  I  would  have  liked  it  all  the  better.  I  read  and 
wrote  at  the  bitter  account  of  the  French  retreat  from  Moscow,  in 
1812,  till  the  little  room  and  coal  fire  seemed  snug  by  comparison. 
I  felt  cold  in  its  rigour  in  my  childhood  and  boyhood,  but  not  since. 
In  youth  and  advanced  life  we  got  less  sensible  to  it,  but  I  remem- 
ber thinking  it  worse  than  hunger.  Uninterrupted  to-day,  and  did 
eight  leaves.2 

February  20. — At  Court,  and  waited  to  see  the  poisoning  woman. 
She  is  clearly  guilty,  but  as  one  or  two  witnesses  said  the  poor  wench 
hinted  an  intention  to  poison  herself,  the  jury  gave  that  bastard  ver- 
dict, Not  proven.  I  hate  that  Caledonian  medium  quid.  One  who  is 
not  proven  guilty  is  innocent  in  the  eye  of  law.  It  was  a  face-  to  do 
or  die,  or  perhaps  to  do  to  die.  Thin  features,  which  had  been  hand- 
some, a  flashing  eye,  an  acute  and  aquiline  nose,  lips  much  marked,  as 
arguing  decision,  and,  I  think,  bad  temper — they  were  thin,  and  ha- 
bitually compressed,  rather  turned  down  at  the  corners,  as  one  of  a 
rather  melancholy  disposition.  There  was  an  awful  crowd ;  but, 

learning.     I  enclose  a  note  of  the  youth's  age,  have  been  redoubled  upon  your  Grace's  head, 

studies,  and  progress,  in  case  your  Grace  might  and  beg  your  Grace  to  believe  me,  with  an  un- 

think  it  possible  to  place  on  your  list  for  the  usually  deep  sense  of  respect  and  obligation, 

Engineer  service  the  name  of  a  poor  Scots  Hi-  my  dear  Lord  Duke,  your  Grace's  much  hon- 

dalgo  ;  your  Grace  knows  Scotland  is  a  breed-  oured  and  grateful,  humble  servant, 
ing  not  a  feeding  country,  and  we  must  send  "WALTER  SCOTT." 

our  sons  abroad,  as  we  send  our  black  cattle  to  — Wellington's  Despatches,  etc.  (Continuation), 

England  ;  and,  as  old  Lady  Campbell  of  Ard-  vol.  iii.  pp.  590-1.     London,  8vo,  1868. 
kinglas  proposed  to  dispose  of  her  nine  sons,          ,  (jmollett,B  perenrine,  P:ci,lf  ml  i  run  1<* 
we  have  a  strong  tendency  to  put  our  young  Ieu  s  ™  effnne  ^'cWe>  voi-  '•  cftP- 13- 

folks  '  a'  to  the  sword. '  a  One  page  of  his  MS.  answers  to  four  or  five 

"  I  have  too  long  detained  you,  my  Lord  of  the  close  printed  pages  of  the  original  edi- 

Duke,  from  the  many  high  occupations  which  tion  of  his  Bonaparte.— J.  G.  L. 


236  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

sitting  within  the  bar,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  much  at  my  ease  ; 
the  constables  knocking  the  other  folks  about,  which  was  of  course 
very  entertaining.1 

Lord  Liverpool  is  ill  of  an  apoplexy.  I  am  sorry  for  it.  He  will  be 

missed.  Who  will  be  got  for  Premier  ?  Not  B certainly  ;a  he 

wants  weight.  If  Peel  would  consent  to  be  made  a  peer,  he  would 
do  better ;  but  I  doubt  his  ambition  will  prefer  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. Wrought  a  good  deal. 

February  21. —  Being  the  vacant  Wednesday  I  wrote  all  the 
morning.  Had  an  answer  from  D.  of  W.,  unsuccessful  in  getting 
young  Skene  put  upon  the  engineer  list ;  he  is  too  old.  Went  out  at 
two  with  Anne,  and  visited  the  exhibition ;  also  called  on  the  Mans- 
field family  and  on  Sydney  Smith.  Jeffrey  unwell  from  pleading  so 
long  and  late  for  the  poisoning  woman.  He  has  saved  her  throat  and 
taken  a  quinsey  in  his  own.  Adam  Ferguson  has  had  a  fall  with  his 
horse. 

February  22. — Was  at  Court  till  two,  then  lounged  till  Will  Mur- 
ray8 came  to  speak  about  a  dinner  for  the  Theatrical  Fund,  in  order 
to  make  some  arrangements.  There  are  300  tickets  given  out.4  I 
fear  it  will  be  uncomfortable ;  and  whatever  the  stoics  may  say,  a  bad 
dinner  throws  cold  water  on  the  charity.  I  have  agreed  to  preside,  a 
situation  in  which  I  have  been  rather  felicitous,  not  by  much  superi- 
ority of  wit  or  wisdom,  far  less  of  eloquence  ;  but  by  two  or  three 
simple  rules  which  I  put  down  here  for  the  benefit  of  posterity. 

1st.  Always  hurry  the  bottle  round  for  five  or  six  rounds  without 
prosing  yourself  or  permitting  others  to  prose.  A  slight  fillip  of 
wine  inclines  people  to  be  pleased,  and  removes  the  nervousness 
which  prevents  men  from  speaking — disposes  them,  in  short,  to  be 
amusing  and  to  be  amused. 

2d.  Push  on,  keep  moving,  as  Punch  says.  Do  not  think  of  say- 
ing fine  things — nobody  cares  for  them  any  more  than  for  fine  music, 
which  is  often  too  liberally  bestowed  on  such  occasions.  Speak  at 
all  ventures,  and  attempt  the  mot  pour  rire.  You  will  find  people 
satisfied  with  wonderfully  indifferent  jokes  if  you  can  but  hit  the 
taste  of  the  company,  which  depends  much  on  its  character.  Even  a 
very  high  party,  primed  with  all  the  cold  irony  and  non  est  tanti  feel- 

•    >  Lord  Cockburn  says : — "  Scott's  description  It  may,  however,  stand  for  Lord  Bathurst,  who 
of  the  woman  is  very  correct;  she  was  like  a  became  President  of  the  Council  shortly  after- 
vindictive  masculine  witch.     I  remember  him  wards  in  Wellington's  Administration, 
sitting  within  the  bar  looking  at  her.    As  we 

were  moving  out,  Sir  Walter's  remark  upon  3  Mr  w  H.  Murray,  Manager  of  the  Theatre 

the  acquittal  was,  '  Well,  sirs,  all  I  can  say  is  Royal,  Edinburgh.   This  excellent  actor  retired 

that  if  that  woman  was  my  wife  I  should  take  from  the  stage  wjth  a  competency,  and  spent 

good  care  to  be  my  own  cook. '  "—Circuit  Jour-  tjie  last  years  of  his  life  in  St.  Andrews,  where 

neys,  8vo,  Edinburgh.  1888,  p.  12.  he  died  fn  March,  1852,  aged  61. 

4  This  can  scarcely  be  taken   to  refer  to 

Brougham,  though  at  the  time  4  Thjg  wag  the  dlnner  ^  whjch  the  vej,  wag 

"Canning  c&lh  Brougham  hii  learned  Friend.  publicly    Withdrawn    from    the    authorship    of 

•My  honours  come  and  share  'em.'  WaverUy;  it  took  place  on  Friday,  23d  Febru- 

To  °™m"n.icer  oiTsaram?™  arv,  1827,  and  a  full  account  of  the  proceedings 

Annul  Miratilu.  is  given  in  the  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  79-81. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  237 

ings,  or  no  feelings,  of  fashionable  folks,  may  be  stormed  by  a  jovial, 
rough,  round,  and  ready  preses.  Choose  your  texts  with  discretion, 
the  sermon  may  be  as  you  like.  If  a  drunkard  or  an  ass  breaks  in 
with  anything  out  of  joint,  if  you  can  parry  it  with  a  jest,  good  and 
well — if  not,  do  not  exert  your  serious  authority,  unless  it  is  some- 
thing very  bad.  The  authority  even  of  a  chairman  ought  to  be  very 
cautiously  exercised.  AVith  patience  you  will  have  the  support  of 
every  one. 

When  you  have  drunk  a  few  glasses  to  play  the  good  fellow,  and 
banish  modesty  if  you  are  unlucky  enough  to  have  such  a  trouble- 
some companion,  then  beware  of  the  cup  too  much.  Nothing  is  so 
ridiculous  as  a  drunken  preses. 

Lastly.  Always  speak  short,  and  Skeoch  dock  na  skiel — cut  a  tale 
with  a  drink. 

"  This  is  the  purpose  and  intent 
Of  gude  Schir  Walter's  testament."  ' 

We  dined  to-day  at  Mrs.  Dundas  of  Arniston,  Dowager. 

February  24. — I  carried  my  own  instructions  into  effect  the  best 
I  could,  and  if  our  jests  were  not  good,  our  laugh  was  abundant.  I 
think  I  will  hardly  take  the  chair  again  when  the  company  is  so  mis- 
cellaneous ;  though  they  all  behaved  perfectly  well.  Meadowbank 
taxed  me  with  the  novels,  and  to  end  that  farce  at  once  I  pleaded 
guilty,  so  that  splore  is  ended.  As  to  the  collection,  it  was  much  cry 
and  little  woo',  as  the  deil  said  when  he  shore  the  sow.  Only  £280 
from  300  people,  but  many  were  to  send  money  to-morrow.  They 
did  not  open  books,  which  was  impolitic,  but  circulated  a  box,  where 
people  might  put  in  what  they  pleased — and  some  gave  shillings, 
which  gives  but  a  poor  idea  of  the  company.  Yet  there  were  many 
respectable  people  and  handsome  donations.  But  this  fashion  of  not 
letting  your  right  hand  see  what  your  left  hand  doeth  is  no  good 
mode  of  raising  a  round  sum.  Your  penny-pig  collections  don't  suc- 
ceed. I  got  away  at  ten  at  night.  The  performers  performed  very 
like  gentlemen,  especially  Will  Murray.  They  attended  as  stewards 
with  white  rods,  and  never  thought  of  sitting  down  till  after  dinner, 
taking  care  that  the  company  was  attended  to. 

February  25. — Very  bad  report  of  the  speeches  in  the  papers. 
We  dined  at  Jeffrey's  with  Sydney  Smith — funny  and  good-natured 
as  usual.  One  of  his  daughters  is  very  pretty  indeed  ;  both  are  well- 
mannered,  agreeable,  and  sing  well.  The  party  was  pleasant. 

February  26. — At  home,  and  settled  to  work;  but  I  know  not 
why  I  was  out  of  spirits — quite  Laird  of  Humdudgeon,  and  did  all 
I  could  to  shake  it  off,  and  could  not.  James  Ballantyne  dined  with 
me. 

February  27. — Humdudgeonish  still ;  hang  it,  what  fools  we  are  ! 

1  Sir  Walter  parodies  the  conclusion  of  King  Robert  the  Brace's  "  Maxims  or  Political  Testa- 
ment."— See  HailesMnna/s,  A.D.  1311.— J.  G.  L. 


I 


238  JOURNAL  [FEB.  1827. 

I  worked,  but  coldly  and  ill.  Yet  something  is  done.  I  wonder  if 
other  people  have  these  strange  alternations  of  industry  and  incapac- 
ity. I  am  sure  I  do  not  indulge  myself  in  fancies,  but  it  is  accom- 
panied with  great  drowsiness — bile,  I  suppose,  and  terribly  jaded 
spirits.  I  received  to-day  Dr.  Shortt  and  Major  Crocket,  who  was 
orderly-officer  on  Boney  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

February  28. — Sir  Adam  breakfasted.  One  of  the  few  old  friends 
left  out  of  the  number  of  my  youthful  companions.  In  youth  we 
have  many  companions,  few  friends  perhaps ;  in  age  companionship 
is  ended,  except  rarely,  and  by  appointment.  Old  men,  by  a  kind  of 
instinct,  seek  younger  companions  who  listen  to  their  stories,  honour 
their  grey  hairs  while  present,  and  mimic  and  laugh  at  them  when 
their  backs  are  turned.  At  least  that  was  the  way  in  our  day,  and  I 
warrant  our  chicks  of  the  present  day  crow  to  the  same  tune.  Of  all 
the  friends  that  I  have  left  I  have  none  who  has  any  decided  attach- 
ment to  literature.  So  either  I  must  talk  on  that  subject  to  young 
people — in  other  words,  turn  proser,  or  I  must  turn  tea-table  talker 
and  converse  with  ladies.  I  am  too  old  and  too  proud  -for  either 
character,  so  I'll  live  alone  and  be  contented.  Lockhart's  departure 
for  London  was  a  loss  to  me  in  this  way.  Came  home  late  from  the 
Court,  but  worked  tightly  in  the  evening.  I  think  discontinuing 
smoking,  as  I  have  done  for  these  two  months  past,  leaves  me  less 
muzzy  after  dinner.  At  any  rate,  it  breaks  a  custom — I  despise 
custom. 


MARCH 

March  1. — At  Court  until  two — wrote  letters  under  cover  of  the 
lawyers'  long  speeches,  so  paid  up  some  of  my  correspondents,  which 
I  seldom  do  upon  any  other  occasion.  I  sometimes  let  letters  lie  for 
days  unopened,  as  if  that  would  postpone  the  necessity  of  answering 
them.  Here  I  am  at  home,  and  to  work  we  go — not  for  the  first  time 
to-day,  for  I  wrought  hard  before  breakfast.  So  glides  away  Thurs- 
day 1st.  By  the  by,  it  is  the  anniversary  of  Bosworth  Field.  In  for- 
mer days  Richard  III.  was  always  acted  at  London  on  this  day ;  now 
the  custom,  I  fancy,  is  disused.  Walpole's  Historic  Doubts  threw  a 
mist  about  this  reign.  It  is  very  odd  to  see  how  his  mind  dwells 
upon  it  at  first  as  the  mere  sport  of  imagination,  till  at  length  they 
became  such  Delilahs  of  his  imagination  that  he  deems  it  far  worse 
than  infidelity  to  doubt  his  Doubts.  After  all,  the  popular  tradition 
is  so  very  strong  and  pointed  concerning  the  character  of  Richard, 
that  it  is  I  think  in  vain  to  doubt  the  general  truth  of  the  outline. 
Shakespeare,  we  may  be  sure,  wrote  his  drama  in  the  tone  that  was 
to  suit  the  popular  belief,  although  where  that  did  Richard  wrong,  his 
powerful  scene  was  sure  to  augment  the  impression.  There  was  an 
action  and  a  reaction. 

March  2. — Clerk  walked  home  with  me  from  the  Court.  I  was 
scarce  able  to  keep  up  with  him  ;  could  once  have  done  it  well  enough. 
Funny  thing  at  the  Theatre.  Among  the  discourse  in  "  High  Life  be- 
low Stairs," l  one  of  the  ladies'  ladies  asks  who  wrote  Shakespeare. 
One  says,  "  Ben  Jonson,"  another,  "  Finis."  "  No,"  said  Will  Mur- 
ray, "  it  is  Sir  Walter  Scott ;  he  confessed  it  at  a  public  meeting  the 
other  day." 

March  3. — Very  severe  weather,  came  home  covered  with  snow. 
White  as  a  frosted-plum-cake,  by  jingo  !  No  matter ;  I  am  not  sorry 
to  find  I  can  stand  a  brush  of  weather  yet;  I  like  to  see  Arthur's 
Seat  and  the  stern  old  Castle  with  their  white  watch-cloaks  on.  But, 
as  Byron  said  to  Moore,  "  d — n  it,  Tom,  don't  be  poetical."  I  settled 
to  Boney,  and  wrote  right  long  and  well. 

March  4. — I  sat  in  by  the  chimney-neuk  with  no  chance  of  inter- 
ruption, and  "  feagued  it  away."  Sir  Adam  came,  and  had  half  an 
hour's  chat  and  laugh.  My  jaws  ought  to  be  sore,  if  the  unwonted- 
ness  of  the  motion  could  do  it.  But  I  have  little  to  laugh  at  but  my- 
self, and  my  own  bizarreries  are  more  like  to  make  me  cry.  Wrought 
hard,  though — there's  sense  in  that. 

1  See  Townley's  Farce, 


240  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

March  5. — Our  young  men  of  first  fashion,  in  whom  tranquillity 
is  the  prime  merit,  a  sort  of  quietism  of  foppery,  if  one  can  use  the 
expression,  have  one  capital  name  for  a  fellow  that  outres  and  outroars 
the  fashion,  a  sort  of  high-buck  as  they  were  called  in  my  days. 
They  hold  him  a  vulgarian,  and  call  him  a  tiger.  Mr.  Gibson  came 
in, and  we  talked  over  my  affairs;  very  little  to  the  purpose  I  doubt. 
Dined  at  home  with  Anne  as  usual,  and  despatched  half-a-dozen 
Selkirk  processes;  among  others  one  which  savours  of  Hamesucken.1 
I  think  to-day  I  have  finished  a  quarter  of  vol.  viii.,  and  last.  Shall 
I  be  happy  when  it  is  done  ? — Urnph  !  I  think  not. 

March  6. — A  long  seat  at  Court,  and  an  early  dinner,  as  we  went 
to  the  play.  John  Kemble's  brother  acted  Benedick.  He  is  a  fine- 
looking  man,  and  a  good  actor,  but  not  superior.  He  reminds  you 
eternally  that  he  is  acting ;  and  he  had  got,  as  the  devil  directed  it, 
hold  of  my  favourite  Benedick,  for  which  he  has  no  power.  He  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  of  the  part,  particularly  of  the  manner  in  which 
Benedick  should  conduct  himself  in  the  quarrelling  scene  with  the 
Prince  and  Claudio,  in  which  his  character  rises  almost  to  the  dignity 
of  tragedy.  The  laying  aside  his  light  and  fantastic  humour,  and 
showing  himself  the  man  of  feeling  and  honour,  was  finely  marked 
of  yore  by  old  Tom  King."  I  remember  particularly  the  high  strain 
of  grave  moral  feeling  which  he  threw  upon  the  words — "  in  a  false 
quarrel  there  is  no  true  valour" — which,  spoken  as  he  did,  checked 
the  very  brutal  levity  of  the  Prince  and  Claudio.  There  were  two 
farces ;  one  I  wished  to  see,  and  that  being  the  last,  was  obliged  to 
tarry  for  it.  Perhaps  the  headache  I  contracted  made  me  a  severe 
critic  on  Cramond  Brig,8  a  little  piece  ascribed  to  Lockhart.  Perhaps 
I  am  unjust,  but  I  cannot  think  it  his  ;4  there  are  so  few  good  things 
in  it,  and  so  much  prosing  transferred  from  that  mine  of  marrowless 
morality  called  the  Miller  of  Mansfield.*  Yet  it  pleases. 

March  7. — We  are  kept  working  hard  during  the  expiring  days 
of  the  Session,  but  this  being  a  blank  day  I  wrote  hard  till  dressing 
time,  when  I  went  to  Will  Clerk's  to  dinner.  As  a  bachelor,  and 
keeping  a  small  establishment",  he  does  not  do  these  things  often,  but 
they  are  proportionally  pleasant-  when  they  come  round.  He  had 
trusted  Sir  Adam  to  bespeak  his  dinner,  who  did  it  con  amore ;  so  we 
had  excellent  cheer,  and  the  wines  were  various  and  capital.  As  I 
before  hinted,  it  is  not  every  day  that  M'Nab*  mounts  on  horseback, 
and  so  our  landlord  had  a  little  of  that  solicitude  that  the  party 
should  go  off  well,  which  is  very  flattering  to  the  guests.  We  had  a 

1  Hamesucken.— The  crime  of  beating  or  as-  «  Marginal  Note  in  Original  MSS.     "I  never 

saulting  a  person  in  his  own  house.     A  Scotch  saw  it — not  mine. — J.  G.  L." 
law  term. 

"  King  had  retired  from  the  stage  in  1801.  6  By  Dodsley. 
He  died  four  years  later. 

'  Cramond  Brig  is  said  to  have  been  written  •  That  singular  personage,  the  late  M'Nab  of 

by  Mr.  W.  H.  Murray,  the  manager  of  the  The-  that  ilk,  spent  his  life  almost  entirely  in  a  dis- 

atre,  and  is  still  occasionally  acted  in  Edin-  trict  where  a  boat  was  the  usual  conveyance, 

burgh.  — j.  o.  L. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  241 

very  pleasant  evening.  The  Chief-Commissioner  was  there,  Admiral 
Adam,  Jo.  Murray,  and  Thomson,  etc.,  etc.  Sir  Adam  predominating 
at  the  head,  and  dancing  what  he  calls  his  "  merry  andrada  "  in  great 
style.  In  short,  we  really  laughed,  and  real  laughter  is  a  thing  as 
rare  as  real  tears.  I  must  say,  too,  there  was  a  heart, — a  kindly  feel- 
ing prevailed  over  the  party.  Can  London  give  such  a  dinner?  It 
may,  but  I  never  saw  one ;  they  are  too  cold  and  critical  to  be  so 
easily  pleased.  In  the  evening  I  went  with  some  others  to  see  the 
exhibition  lit  up  for  a  promenade,  where  there  were  all  the  fashion- 
able folks  about  town ;  the  appearance  of  the  rooms  was  very  gay 
indeed. 

March  8. — It  snowed  all  night,  which  must  render  the  roads  im- 
passable, and  will  detain  me  here  till  Monday.  Hard  work  at  Court, 
as  Hammie  is  done  up  with  the  gout.  We  dine  with  Lord  Core- 
house — that's  not  true  by  the  by,  for  I  have  mistaken  the  day.  It's 
to-morrow  we  dine  there.  Wrought,  but  not  too  hard. 

March  9. — An  idle  morning.  Dalgleish  being  set  to  pack  my 
books.  Wrote  notes  upon  a  Mr.  Kinloch's  Collection  of  Scottish 
Ballads,1  which  I  communicated  to  the  young  author  in  the  Court 
this  present  morning.  We  were  detained  till  half-past  three  o'clock, 
so  when  I  came  home  I  was  fatigued  and  slept.  I  walk  slow,  heavily, 
and  with  pain ;  but  perhaps  the  good  weather  may  banish  the  Fiend 
of  the  joints.  At  any  rate,  impatience  will  do  nae  good  at  a',  man. 
Letter  from  Charles  for  £50.  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none  ;  but  that 
which  I  have  I  will  give  unto  him.  We  dined  at  the  Cranstouns, — 
I  beg  his  pardon,  Lord  Corehouse ;  Ferguson,  Thomson,  Will  Clerk, 
etc.,  were  there,  also  the  Smiths  and  John  Murray,  so  we  had  a  pleas- 
ant evening. 

March  10. — The  business  at  the  Court  was  not  so  heavy  as  I 
have  seen  it  the  last  day  of  the  Session,  yet  sharp  enough.  About 
three  o'clock  I  got  to  a  meeting  of  the  Bannatyne  Club.  I  hope  this 
institution  will  be  really  useful  and  creditable.  Thomson  is  superin- 
tending a  capital  edition  of  Sir  James  Melville's  Memoirs.*  It  is 
brave  to  see  how  he  wags  his  Scots  tongue,  and  what  a  difference 
there  is  in  the  force  and  firmness  of  the  language,  compared  to  the 
mincing  English  edition  in  which  he  has  hitherto  been  alone  known. 
Nothing  to-day  but  correcting  proofs ;  Anne  went  to  the  play,  I  re- 
mained at  home. 

March  11. — All  my  books  packed  this  morning,  and  this  and  to- 
morrow will  be  blank  days,  or  nearly  such ;  but  I  am  far  ahead  of 
the  printer,  who  is  not  done  with  vol.  vii.,  while  I  am  deep  in  volume 
viii.  I  hate  packing ;  but  my  servants  never  pack  books  quite  to 
please  me.  James  Ballantyne  dined  with  us.  He  kept  up  my  heart 
about  Bonaparte,  which  sometimes  flags ;  and  he  is  such  a  grumbler 

i  Ancient  Scottish,  Ballads,  recoveredfrom  tra-          J  Issued  by  the  Club,  June  4, 1827. 
dilion,  with,  notes,  etc.,  by  George  R  Kinloch, 
8vo,  London,  1827. 

16 


242  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

that  I  think  I  may  trust  him  when  he  is  favourable.  There  must  be 
sad  inaccuracies,  some  which  might  certainly  have  been  prevented  by 
care ;  but  as  the  Lazaroni  used  to  say,  "  Did  you  but  know  how  lazy 
I  am !" 

[Abbotsford,]  March  12. — Away  we  set,  and  came  safely  to  Ab- 
botsford  amid  all  the  dulness  of  a  great  thaw,  which  has  set  the  rivers 
a-streaming  in  full  tide.  The  wind  is  wintry,  but  for  my  part 

"I  like  this  rocking  of  the  battlements."1 

I  was  received  by  old  Tom  and  the  dogs,  with  the  unsophisticated 
feelings  of  goodwill.  I  have  been  trying  to  read  a  new  novel  which 
T  have  heard  praised.  It  is  called  Almacks,  and  the  author  has  so 
well  succeeded  in  describing  the  cold  selfish  fopperies  of  the  time, 
that  the  copy  is  almost  as  dull  as  the  original.  I  think  I  will  take 
up  my  bundle  of  Sheriff-Court  processes  instead  of  Almacks,  as  the 
more  entertaining  avocation  of  the  two. 

March  13. — Before  breakfast,  prepared  and  forwarded  the  proc- 
esses to  Selkirk.  As  I  had  the  loan  of  £250  at  March  from  Cadell 
I  am  now  verging  on  to  the  £500  which  he  promised  to  allow  me 
in  advance  on  second  series  Canongate  Chronicles.  I  do  not  like 
this,  but  unless  I  review  or  write  to  some  other  purpose,  what  else 
can  I  do?  My  own  expenses  are  as  limited  as  possible,  but  my 
house  expenses  are  considerable,  and  every  now  and  then  starts  up 
something  of  old  scores  which  I  cannot  turn  over  to  Mr.  Gibson  and 
his  co-trustees.  Well — time  and  the  hour — money  is  the  smallest 
consideration. 

Had  a  pleasant  walk  to  the  thicket,  though  my  ideas  were  olla- 
podrida-ish,  curiously  checkered  between  pleasure  and  melancholy. 
I  have  cause  enough  for  both  humours,  God  knows.  I  expect  this 
will  not  be  a  day  of  work  but  of  idleness,  for  my  books  are  not  come. 
Would  to  God  I  could  make  it  light  thoughtless  idleness,  such  as  I  used 
to  have  when  the  silly  smart  fancies  ran  in  my  brain  like  the  bubbles 
in  a  glass  of  champagne, — as  brilliant  to  my  thinking,  as  intoxicating 
as  evanescent.  But  the  wine  is  somewhat  on  the  lees.  Perhaps  it 
was  but  indifferent  cider  after  all.  Yet  I  am  happy  in  this  place, 
where  everything  looks  friendly,  from  old  Tom  to  young  Nym.a  Af- 
ter all,  he  has  little  to  complain  of  who  has  left  so  many  things  that 
like  him. 

March  14. — All  yesterday  spent  in  putting  to  rights  books,  and 
so  forth.  Not  a  word  written  except  interlocutors.  But  this  won't 
do.  I  have  tow  on  the  rock,  and  it  must  be  spun  off.  Let  us  see 
our  present  undertakings.  1.  Napoleon.  2.  Review  Home,  Cran- 
bourne  Chase,3  and  the  Mysteries.  3.  Something  for  that  poor  fai- 

i  Zanga  in  The  Revenge,  Act  i.  Sc.  1. — J.  o.  L.  "I  am  sorry  Sir  Walter  never  redeemed  his 

4  Nimrod,  a  staghound. — i.  G.  L.  promise  to  make  it  the  subject  of  an  article  in 

1  Anecdotes  of  Cranbourne  Chase,  etc.,  by  the  Quarterly  Review." — See  Life,  vol.  vii.  pp. 

Chafln.    8vo,  London,  1818.    Mr.  Lockhart  says,  43-44. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  243 

neant  Gillies.  4.  Essay  on  Ballad  and  Song.  5.  Something  on  the 
modern  state  of  France.  These  two  last  for  the  Prose  Works.  But 
they  may 

" do  a  little  more, 

And  produce  a  little  ore." 

Come,  we  must  up  and  be  doing.  There  is  a  rare  scud  without, 
which  says,  "  Go  spin,  you  jade,  go  spin."  I  loitered  on,  and  might 
have  answered, 

"My  spinning-wheel  is  auld  and  stiff." 

Smoked  a  brace  of  cigars  after  dinner  as  a  sedative.  This  is  the 
first  time  I  have  smoked  these  two  months.  I  was  afraid  the  cus- 
tom would  master  me.  Went  to  work  in  the  afternoon,  and  reviewed 
for  Lockhart  Mackenzie's  edition  of  Home's  Works.'  Proceeded  as 
far  as  the  eighth  page. 

March  15. — Kept  still  at  the  review  till  two  o'clock;  not  that 
there  is  any  hurry,  but  because  I  should  lose  my  ideas,  which  are  not 
worth  preserving.  Went  on  therefore.  I  drove  over  to  Huntly 
Burn  with  Anne,  then  walked  through  the  plantations,  with  Tom's 
help  to  pull  me  through  the  snow-wreaths.  Returned  in  a  glow  of 
heat  and  spirits.  Corrected  proof-sheets  in  the  evening. 

March   16. — 

"  A  trifling  day  we  have  had  here, 
Begun  with  trifle  and  ended." 

But  I  hope  no  otherwise  so  ended  than  to  meet  the  rubrick  of  the 
ballad,  for  it  is  but  three  o'clock.  In  the  morning  I  was  Vhomme  qui 
cherche — everything  fell  aside, — the  very  pens  absconded,  and  crept 
in  among  a  pack  of  letters  and  trumpery,  where  I  had  the  devil's 
work  finding  them.  Thus  the  time  before  breakfast  was  idled,  or 
rather  fidgeted,  away.  Afterwards  it  was  rather  worse.  I  had  set- 
tled to  finish  the  review,  when,  behold,  as  I  am  apt  to  do  at  a  set 
task,  I  jibb'd,  and  my  thoughts  would  rather  have  gone  with  Water- 
loo. So  I  dawdled,  as  the  women  say,  with  both,  now  writing  a  page 
or  two  of  the  review,  now  reading  a  few  pages  of  the  Battle  of  Wa- 
terloo by  Captain  Pringle,  a  manuscript  which  is  excellently  written.* 
Well,  I  will  find  the  advantage  of  it  by  and  by.  So  now  I  will  try 
to  finish  this  accursed  review,  for  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  me, 
save  the  untractable  character  that  hates  to  work  on  compulsion, 
whether  of  individuals  or  circumstances. 

March  17. — I  wrought  away  at  the  review  and  nearly  finished  it. 
Was  interrupted,  however,  by  a  note  from  Ballantyne,  demanding 
copy,  which  brought  me  back  from  Home  and  Mackenzie  to  Boney. 

i  The  article  appeared  in  the  Number  for  "  See  Captain  John  Pringle's  remarks  on  the 
June  1827,  and  is  now  included  in  the  Prose  campaign  of  1815  in  App.  to  Scott's  Napoleon, 
Misc.  Works,  vol.  xix.  pp.  283-367.  vol.  ix.  pp.  115-160. 


244  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

I  had  my  walk  as  usual,  and  worked  nevertheless  very  fairly.  Cor- 
rected proofs. 

March  18. — Took  up  Boney  again.  I  am  now  at  writing,  as  I 
used  to  be  at  riding,  slow,  heavy,  and  awkward  at  mounting,  but  when 
I  did  get  fixed  in  my  saddle,  could  screed  away  with  any  one.  I 
have  got  six  pages  ready  for  my  learned  Theban1  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. William  Laidlaw  and  his  brother  George  dined  with  me,  but  I 
wrote  in  the  evening  all  the  same. 

March  19. — Set  about  my  labours,  but  enter  Captain  John  Per 
guson  from  the  Spanish  Main,  where  he  has  been  for  three  years. 
The  honest  tar  sat  about  two  hours,  and  I  was  heartily  glad  to  see 
him  again.  I  had  a  general  sketch  of  his  adventures,  which  we  will 
hear  more  in  detail  when  we  can  meet  at  kail-time.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  interruption  I  have  pushed  far  into  the  seventh  page.  Well 
done  for  one  day.  Twenty  days  should  finish  me  at  this  rate,  and  I 
read  hard  too.  But  allowance  must  be  made  for  interruptions. 

March  20. — To-day  worked  till  twelve  o'clock,  then  went  with 
Anne  on  a  visit  of  condolence  to  Mrs.  Pringle  of  Yair  and  her  fam- 
ily. Mr.  Pringle  was  the  friend  both  of  my  father  and  grandfather ; 
the  acquaintance  of  our  families  is  St  least  a  century  old. 

March  21. — Wrote  till  twelve,  then  out  upon  the  heights  though 
the  day  was  stormy,  and  faced  the  gale  bravely.  Tom  Purdie  was 
not  with  me.  He  would  have  obliged  me  to  keep  the  sheltered 
ground.  But,  I  don't  know — 

"Even  in  our  ashes  live  our  wonted  fires." 

There  is  a  touch  of  the  old  spirit  in  me  yet  that  bids  me  brave  the 
tempest, — the  spirit  that,  in  spite  of  manifold  infirmities,  made  me  a 
roaring  boy  in  my  youth,  a  desperate  climber,  a  bold  rider,  a  deep 
drinker,  and  a  stout  player  at  single-stick,  of  all  which  valuable  qual- 
ities there  are  now  but  slender  remains.  I  worked  hard  when  I  came 
in,  and  finished  five  pages. 

March  22. — Yesterday  I  wrote  to  James  Ballantyne,  acquiescing  in 
his  urgent  request  to  extend  the  two  last  volumes  to  about  600  each. 
I  believe  it  will  be  no  more  than  necessary  after  all,  but  makes  one  feel 
like  a  dog  in  a  wheel,  always  moving  and  never  advancing. 

March  23. — When  I  was  a  child,  and  indeed  for  some  years  after, 
my  amusement  was  in  supposing  to  myself  a  set  of  persons  engaged 
in  various  scenes  which  contrasted  them  with  each  other,  and  I  re- 
member to  this  day  the  accuracy  of  my  childish  imagination.  This 
might  be  the  effect  of  a  natural  turn  to  fictitious  narrative,  or  it  might 
be  the  cause  of  it,  or  there  might  be  an  action  and  reaction,  or  it 
does  not  signify  a  pin's  head  how  it  is.  But  with  a  flash  of  this  re- 
maining spirit,  1  imagine  my  mother  Duty  to  be  a  sort  of  old  task- 

1  Lear.  Act  HI.  Sc.  i 


1827.]  JOURNAL  245 

mistress,  like  the  hag  of  the  merchant  Abudah,  in  the  Tales  of 
the  Genii — not  a  hag  though,  by  any  means ;  on  the  contrary,  my 
old  woman  wears  a  rich  old-fashioned  gown  of  black  silk,  with  ruf- 
fles of  triple  blonde-lace,  and  a  coif  as  rich  as  that  of  Pearling  Jean ;' 
a  figure  and  countenance  something  like  Lady  D.  S.'s  twenty  years 
ago ;  a  clear  blue  eye,  capable  of  great  severity  of  expression,  and 
conforming  in  that  with  a  wrinkled  brow,  of  which  the  ordinary  ex- 
pression is  a  serious  approach  to  a  frown — a  cautionary  and  nervous 
shake  of  the  head ;  in  her  withered  hand  an  ebony  staff  with  a  crutch 
head, — a  Tompion  gold  watch,  which  annoys  all  who  know  her  by 
striking  the  quarters  as  regularly  as  if  one  wished  to  hear  them.  Oc- 
casionally she  has  a  small  scourge  of  nettles,  which  I  feel  her  lay 
across  my  ringers  at  this  moment,  and  so  Tace  is  Latin  for  a  candle.* 
I  have  150  pages  to  write  yet. 

March  24. — Does  Duty  not  wear  a  pair  of  round  old-fashioned 
silver  buckles  ?  Buckles  she  has,  but  they  are  square  ones.  All  be- 
longing to  Duty  is  rectangular.  Thus  can  we  poor  children  of  imag- 
ination play  with  the  ideas  we  create,  like  children  with  soap-bubbles. 

Pity  that  we  pay  for  it  at  other  times  by  starting  at  our  shadows. 

• 

"  Man  but  a  rush  against  Othello's  breast." 

The  hard  work  still  proceeds,  varied  only  by  a  short  walk. 

March  25. — Hard  work  still,  but  went  to  Huntly  Burn  on  foot, 
and  returned  in  the  carriage.  Walked  well  and  stoutly — God  be 
praised ! — and  prepared  a  whole  bundle  of  proofs  and  copy  for  the 
Blucher  to-morrow ;  that  damned  work  will  certainly  end  some  time 
or  other.  As  it  drips  and  dribbles  out  on  the  paper,  I  think  of  the 
old  drunken  Presbyterian  under  the  spout. 

March  26. — Despatched  packets.  Colonel  and  Captain  Ferguson 
arrived  to  breakfast.  I  had  previously  determined  to  give  myself  a 
day  to  write  letters ;  and,  as  I  expect  John  Thomson  to  dinner,  this 
day  will  do  as  well  as  another.  I  cannot  keep  up  with  the  world 
without  shying  a  letter  now  and  then.  It  is  true  the  greatest  hap- 
piness I  could  think  of  would  be  to  be  rid  of  the  world  entirely. 
Excepting  my  own  family,  I  have  little  pleasure  in  the  world,  less 
business  in  it,  and  am  heartily  careless  about  all  its  concerns.  Mr. 

1  "Pearling  Jean,"  the  name  of  the  ghost  of  his  works.1    But  though  its  origin  cannot 
of  the  Spanish  Nun  at  Allanbank,  Berwick-  be  traced,  Swift  uses  it  in  that  very  curious 
shire     See  Sharpe's  Letters,  vol.  i.  pp.  303-5,  collection    of  proverbs   and  saws,  which   he 
and  Ingram's  Haunted  Homes,  Lond.  1884,  vol.  strung  together  under  the  title  of  Polite  Con- 
i.  pp.  1-4.  versation,  and  published  about  1738.*    Fielding 

2  This  quaint  saying,  arising  out  of  some  for-  also  introduces  it  in  Amelia,3  1752.    See  Notei 
gotten  joke,  has  been  thought  to  be  Scott's  and  Queries,  first  series,  vol.  i.  p.  385;  ii.  p.  45; 
own,  as  it  was  a  favourite  with  him  and  his  in-  iv.  p.  450;  x.  p.  173;  sixth  series,  vol.  Hi.  p.  213"; 
timates,  and  he  introduces  it  in  more  than  one  iv.  p.  157. 

1  e.g.  Rtdgavntlet,  ch.  xii.    Pata-in-Peril  at  Dumfries. 
.3  Lard  Smart—"  Well,  Tom,  can  you  tell  me  what's  Latin  for  a.  candle!" 

Nnerout — "0, my  Lord,  I  know  that  [answer]:  Brandy  is  Latin  for  a  goo>e!  and  Tace  ii  Latin  for  a  candle."— 
SCOTT'S  Svifl,  vol.  he.  p.  457. 

3  "Tact,  Madam,"  added  Murphy,  "U  Latin  for  a  caudle." — Amelia,  Bk.  i.  cap.  xl. 


246  JOURNAL  [MAKCH,  182Y. 

Thomson  came  accordingly  —  not  John  Thomson  of  Duddingston, 
whom  the  letter  led  me  to  expect,  but  John  Anstruther  Thomson  of 
Charlton  [Fifeshire],  the  son-in-law  of  Lord  Ch.-Commissioner. 

March  27. — Wrote  two  leaves  this  morning,  and  gave  the  day 
after  breakfast  to  my  visitor,  who  is  a  country  gentleman  of  the  best 
description  ;  knows  the  world,  having  been  a  good  deal  attached  both 
to  the  turf  and  the  field ;  is  extremely  good-humoured,  and  a  good 
deal  of  a  local  antiquary.  I  showed  him  the  plantations,  going  first 
round  the  terrace,  then  to  the  lake,  then  came  down  by  the  Rhym- 
er's Glen,  and  took  carriage  at  Huntly  Burn,  almost  the  grand  tour, 
only  we  did  not  walk  from  Huntly  Burn.  The  Fergusons  dined 
with  us. 

March  28. — Mr.  Thomson  left  us  about  twelve  for  Minto,  parting 
a  pleased  guest,  I  hope,  from  a  pleased  landlord.  When  I  see  a  "  gem- 
man  as  is  a  gemman,"  as  the  blackguards  say,  why,  I  know  how  to  be 
civil.  After  he  left  I  set  doggedly  to  work  with  Bonaparte,  who  had 
fallen  a  little  into  arrear.  I  can  clear  the  ground  better  now  by 
mashing  up  my  old  work  in  the  Edinburgh  Register  with  my  new 
matter,  a  species  of  colcannen,  where  cold  potatoes  are  mixed  with 
hot  cabbage.  After  all,  I  think  BaWantyne  is  right,  and  that  I  have 
some  talents  for  history-writing  after  all.  That  same  history  in  the 
Register  reads  prettily  enough.  Coragio,  cry  Claymore.  I  finished 
five  pages,  but  with  additions  from  Register  they  will  run  to  more 
than  double  I  hope ;  like  Puff  in  the  Critic,  be  luxuriant.1 

Here  is  snow  back  again,  a  nasty,  comfortless,  stormy  sort  of  a 
day,  and  I  will  work  it  off  at  Boney.  What  shall  I  do  when  Bona- 
parte is  done  ?  He  engrosses  me  morning,  noon,  and  night.  Never 
mind ;  Komt  Zeit  komt  Rath,  as  the  German  says.  I  did  not  work 
longer  than  twelve,  however,  but  went  out  in  as  rough  weather  as  I 
have  seen,  and  stood  out  several  snow  blasts. 

March  29,  30. — 

"  He  walk'd  and  wrought,  poor  soul !     What  then  ? 
Why,  then  he  walk'd  and  wrought  again." 

March  31. — Day  varied  by  dining  with  Mr.  Scrope,  where  we 
found  Mr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Simson,"  both  excellent  artists.  We  had 
not  too  much  of  the  palette,  but  made  a  very  agreeable  day  out.  1 
contrived  to  mislay  the  proof-sheets  sent  me  this  morning,  so  that  I 
must  have  a  revise.  This  frequent  absence  of  mind  becomes  very 
exceeding  troublesome.  I  have  the  distinct  recollection  of  laying 
them  carefully  aside  after  I  dressed  to  go  to  the  Pavilion.  Well,  I 
have  a  head — the  proverb  is  musty. 

>  Sheridan's  Play,  Act  11.  Sc.  1.  *  William  Simson,  R. S.  A. ,  landscape  painter. 

He  died  in  London,  1817. 


APRIL 

April  1. — The  proofs  are  not  to  be  found.  Applications  from 
R.  P.  G[illies].  I  must  do  something  for  him ;  yet  have  the  melan- 
choly conviction  that  nothing  will  do  him  any  good.  Then  he  writes 
letters  and  expects  answers.  Then  they  are  bothering  me  about 
writing  in  behalf  of  the  oil-gas  light,  which  is  going  to  the  devil  very 
fast.  I  cannot  be  going  a-begging  for  them  or  anybody.  Please  to 
look  down  with  an  eye  of  pity — a  poor  distressed  creature  !  No,  not 
for  the  last  morsel  of  bread.  A  dry  ditch  and  a  speedy  death  is  worth 
it  all. 

April  2. — Another  letter  from  R.  P.  G.  I  shall  begin  to  wish,  like 
S.,  that  he  had  been  murthered  and  robbed  in  his  walks  between  Wim- 
bledon and  London.  John  [Archibald]  Murray  and  his  young  wife 
came  to  dinner,  and  in  good  time.  I  like  her  very  much,  and  think 
he  has  been  very  lucky.  She  is  not  in  the  vaward  of  youth,  but  John 
is  but  two  or  three  years  my  junior.  She  is  pleasing  in  her  manners, 
and  totally  free  from  affectation  ;  a  beautiful  musician,  and  willingly 
exerts  her  talents  in  that  way ;  is  said  to  be  very  learned,  but  shows 
none  of  it.  A  large  fortune  is  no  bad  addition  to  such  a  woman's 
society. 

April  3. — I  had  processes  to  decide ;  and  though  I  arose  at  my 
usual  hour,  I  could  not  get  through  above  two  of  five  proofs.  After 
breakfast  I  walked  with  John  Murray,  and  at  twelve  we  went  for 
Melrose,  where  I  had  to  show  the  lions.  We  came  back  by  Huntly 
Burn,  where  the  carriage  broke  down,  and  gave  us  a  pretty  long  walk 
home.  Mr.  Scrope  dined  with  his  two  artists,  and  John  [Thomson  ?]. 
The  last  is  not,  only  the  best  landscape-painter  of  his  age  and  coun- 
try, but  is,  moreover,  one  of  the  warmest-hearted  men  living,  with  a 
keen  and  unaffected  feeling  of  poetry.  Poor  fellow!  he  has  had  many 
misfortunes  in  his  family.  I  drank  a  glass  or  two  of  wine  more  than 
usual,  got  into  good  spirits,  and  came  from  Tripoli  for  the  amusement 
of  the  good  company.  I  was  in  good  fooling. 

April  4. — I  think  I  have  a  little  headache  this  morning;  how- 
ever, as  Othello  says,  "  That's  not  much."  I  saw  our  guests  go  off 
by  seven  in  the  morning,  but  was  not  in  time  to  give  them  good- 
bye. 

"And  now  again,  boys,  to  the  oar." 

I  did  not  go  to  the  oar  though,  but  walked  a  good  deal. 

April  5. — Heard  from  Lockhart ;  the  Duke  of  Wellington]  and 


248  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

Croker  are  pleased  with  my  historical  labours ;  so  far  well — for  the 
former,  as  a  soldier  said  of  him, "I  would  rather  have  his  long  nose  on 
my  side  than  a  whole  brigade."  Well !  something  good  may  come 
of  it,  and  if  it  does  it  will  be  good  luck,  for,  as  you  and  I  know,  Moth- 
er Duty,  it  has  been  a  rummily  written  work.  I  wrote  hard  to-day. 

April  6. — Do.  Do.  I  only  took  one  turn  about  the  thicket,  and 
have  nothing  to  put  down  but  to  record  my  labours. 

April  7. — The  same  history  occurs ;  my  desk  and  my  exercise.  I 
am  a  perfect  automaton.  Bonaparte  runs  in  my  head  from  seven  in 
the  morning  till  ten  at  night  without  intermission.  I  wrote  six  leaves 
to-day  and  corrected  four  proofs. 

April  8. — Ginger,  being  in  my  room,  was  safely  delivered  in  her 
basket  of  four  puppies ;  the  mother  and  children  all  doing  well.  Faith ! 
that  is  as  important  an  entry  as  my  Journal  could  desire.  The  day  is 
so  beautiful  that  I  long  to  go  out.  I  won't,  though,  till  I  have  done 
something.  A  letter  from  Mr.  Gibson  about  the  trust  affairs.  If  the 
infernal  bargain  with  Constable  go  on  well,  there  will  be  a  pretty  sop 
in  the  pan  to  the  creditors  ;  £35,000  at  least.  If  I  could  work  as  ef- 
fectually for  three  years  more,  I  shall  stand  on  my  feet  like  a  man. 
But  who  can  assure  success  with  the  public  ? 

April  9. — I  wrote  as  hard  to-day  as  need  be,  finished  my  neat 
eight  pages,  and,  notwithstanding,  drove  out  and  visited  at  Gat- 
tonside.  The  devil  must  be  in  it  if  the  matter  drags  out  longer 
now. 

April  10. — Some  incivility  from  the  Leith  Bank,  which  1  despise 
with  my  heels.  I  have  done  for  settling  my  affairs  all  that  any  man 
— much  more  than  most  men — could  have  done,  and  they  refuse  a 
draught  of  £20,  because,  in  mistake,  it  was  £8  overdrawn.  But 
what  can  be  expected  of  a  sow  but  a  grumph  ?  Wrought  hard, 
hard. 

April  11. — The  parks  were  rouped  for  £100  a  year  more  than 
they  brought  last  year.  Poor  Abbotsford  will  come  to  good  after  all. 
In  the  meantime  it  is  Sic  vos  non  vobis — but  who  cares  a  farthing  ?  If 
Boney  succeeds,  we  will  give  these  affairs  a  blue  eye,  and  I  will  wrestle 
stoutly  with  them,  although 

"My  banks  they  are  covered  with  bees"1 

or  rather  with  wasps.     A  very  tough  day's  work. 

April  12. — Ha-a-lt — as  we  used  to  say,  my  proof-sheets  being  still 
behind.  Very  unhandsome  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Blucher"  while 
I  was  lauding  it  so  profusely.  It  is  necessary  to  halt  and  close  up  our 
files — of  correspondence  I  mean.  So  it  is  a  chance  if,  except  for  con- 
tradiction's sake,  or  upon  getting  the  proof-sheets,  I  write  a  line  to- 

i  See  Shenstono's  Pastoral  Ballad,  Part  li.,         a  The  coach  to  Edinburgh. 
Hope. 


18-27.]  JOURNAL  249 

day  at  Boney.  I  did,  however,  correct  fivre  revised  sheets  and  one 
proof,  which  took  me  up  so  much  of  the  day  that  I  had  but  one  turn 
through  the  courtyard.  Owing  to  this  I  had  some  of  my  flutterings, 
my  trembling  exies,  as  the  old  people  called  the  ague.  Wrote  a  great 
many  letters — but  no  "  copy." 

April  13. — I  have  sometimes  wondered  with  what  regularity — 
that  is,  for  a  shrew  of  my  impatient  temper — I  have  been  able  to 
keep  this  Journal.  The  use  of  the  first  person  being,  of  course,  the 
very  essence  of  a  diary,  I  conceive  it  is  chiefly  vanity,  the  dear  pleas- 
ure of  writing  about  the  best  of  good  fellows,  Myself,  which  gives  me 
perseverance  to  continue  this  idle  task.  This  morning  I  wrote  till 
breakfast,  then  went  out  and  marked  trees  to  be  cut  for  paling,  and 
am  just  returned — and  what  does  any  one  care  ?  Ay,  but,  Gad  !  I  care 
myself,  though.  We  had  at  dinner  to-day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cranstoun 
(Burns's  Maria  of  Ballochmyle1),  Mr.  Bain  bridge  and  daughters,  and 
Colonel  Russell. 

April  14. — Went  to  Selkirk  to  try  a  fellow  for  an  assault  on  Dr. 
Clarkson — fined  him  seven  guineas,  which, with  his  necessary  expenses, 
will  amount  to  ten  guineas.  It  is  rather  too  little  ;  but  as  his  income 
does  not  amount  to  £30  a  year,  it  will  pinch  him  severely  enough, 
and  is  better  than  sending  him  to  an  ill-kept  jail,  where  he  would  be 
idle  and  drunk  from  morning  to  night.  I  had  a  dreadful  headache 
while  sitting  in  the  Court — rheumatism  in  perfection.  It  did  not  last 
after  I  got  warm  by  the  fireside. 

April  15. — Delightful  soft  morning,  with  mild  rain.  Walked  out 
and  got  wet,  as  a  sovereign  cure  for  the  rheumatism.  Was  quite  well, 
though,  and  scribbled  away. 

April  16. — A  day  of  work  and  exercise.  In  the  evening  a  letter 
from  L[ockhart],  with  the  wonderful  news  that  the  Ministry  has  bro- 
ken up,  and  apparently  for  no  cause  that  any  one  can  explain.  The 
old  grudge,  I  suppose,  betwixt  Peel  and  Canning,  which  has  gone  on 
augmenting  like  a  crack  in  the  side  of  a  house,  which  enlarges  from 
day  to  day,  till  down  goes  the  whole.  Mr.  Canning  has  declared 
himself  fully  satisfied  with  J.  L.,  and  sent  Barrow  to  tell  him  so.  His 
suspicions  were  indeed  most  erroneous,  but  they  were  repelled  with  no 
little  spirit  both  by  L.  and  myself,  and  Canning  has  not  been  like  an- 
other Great  Man  I  know  to  whom  I  showed  demonstrably  that  he  had 
suspected  an  individual  unjustly.  "  It  may  "be  so,"  he  said,  "  but  his 
mode  of  defending  himself  was  offensive."  " 

i  See  "The  Braes  of  Ballochmyle;"  Carrie's  "North.— There  indeed,  James,  was  a  beau- 
Burns,  vol.  iv.  p.  294.  tiful  exhibition  of  party  politics,  a  dignified 

a  The  conduct  of  the  Quarterly  at  this  time  exhibition  of  personal  independence." — Noctes 

was  in  after  years  thus  commented  upon  by  Ambrosianae. 
John  Wilson. 

"North. — Whilewe  were  defending  the  prin-  It  is  understood  that  Canning,  who  had  re- 
ciples  of  the  British  constitution,  bearding  its  ceived  the  King's  commands  in  April  10,  felt 
enemies,  and  administering  to  them  the  knout,  keenly  the  loneliness  of  his  position — estranged 
the  Quarterly  Review  was  meek  and  mum  as  a  from  his  old  comrades,  and  deterred  by  the  re- 
mouse,  membrance  of  many  bitter  satires  against  them 

"  Tickler.— Afraid  to  lose  the  countenance  from  having  close  intimacy  with  his  new  coad- 

aud  occasional  assistance  of  Mr.  Canning.  jutors. 


250  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

April  17. — Went  to  dinner  to-day  to  Mr.  Bainbridge's  Gattonside 
House,  and  had  fireworks  in  the  evening,  made  by  Captain  Burchard, 
a  good-humoured  kind  of  Will  Wimble.1  One  nice  little  boy  an- 
nounced to  us  everything  that  was  going  to  be  done,  with  the  impor- 
tance of  a  prologue.  Some  of  the  country  folks  assembled,  and  our 
party  was  enlivened  by  the  squeaks  of  the  wenches  and  the  long-pro- 
tracted Eh,  eh's  !  by  which  a  Teviotdale  tup  testifies  his  wonder. 

April  18. — I  felt  the  impatience  of  news  so  much  that  I  walked 
up  to  Mr.  Laidlaw,  surely  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  talk  politics. 
This  interrupted  Boney  a  little.  After  I  returned,  about  twelve  or 
one,  behold  Tom  Tack ;  he  comes  from  Buenos  Ayres  with  a  parcel  of 
little  curiosities  he  had  picked  up  for  me.  As  Tom  Tack  spins  a 
tough  yarn,  I  lost  the  morning  almost  entirely — what  with  one  thing, 
what  with  t'  other,  as  my  friend  the  Laird  of  Raeburn  says.  Nor  have 
I  much  to  say  for  the  evening,  only  I  smoked  a  cigar  more  than  usu- 
al to  get  the  box  ended,  and  give  up  the  custom  for  a  little. 

April  19. — Another  letter  from  Lockhart.8  I  am  sorry  when  1 
.think  of  the  goodly  fellowship  of  vessels  which  are  now  scattered  on 
the  ocean.  There  is  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  the  Lord  Chancellor, 
Lord  Melville,  Mr.  Peel,  and  I  wot  not  who  besides,  all  turned  out  of 
office  or  resigned !  I  wonder  what  they  can  do  in  the  House  of  Lord? 
when  all  the  great  Tories  are  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  House.  Can- 
ning seems  quite  serious  in  his  views  of  helping  Lockhart.  I  hope  it. 
will  come  to  something. 

April  20. — A  surly  sort  of  day.  I  walked  for  two  hours,  how- 
ever, and  then  returned  chiefly  to  Nap.  Egad !  I  believe  it  has  an 
end  at  last,  this  blasted  work.  I  have  the  fellow  at  Plymouth,  or 
near  about  it.  Well,  I  declare,  I  thought  the  end  of  these  beastly 
big  eight  volumes  was  like  the  end  of  the  world,  which  is  always 
talked  of  and  never  comes. 

April  21. — Here  is  a  vile  day — downright  rain,  which  disconcerts 
an  inroad  of  bairns  from  Gattonside,  and,  of  course,  annihilates  a  part 
of  the  stock  of  human  happiness.  But  what  says  the  proverb  of  your 
true  rainy  day — 

"  'Tis  good  for  book,  'tis  good  for  work, 
For  cup  and  can,  or  knife  and  fork." 

April  22. — Wrote  till  twelve  o'clock,  then  sallied  forth,  and 
walked  to  Huntly  Burn  with  Tom ;  and  so,  look  you,  sir,  I  drove 

•  See  Spectator.  Lord  Melville,  I  suppose,  falls  of  course— per- 
haps cum  totd  tequeld,  about  which  sequela, 

a  " .  .  .  Your  letter  has  given  me  the  vertigo  unless  Sir  W.  Rae  and  the  Solicitor,  I  care  little. 

—my  head  turns  round  like  a  chariot  wheel,  The  whole  is  glamour  to  one  who  reads  no  pa- 

and  I  am  on  the  point  of  asking —  pers,  and  has  none  to  read.     I  must  get  one, 

. ....     .  though,  if  this  work  is  to  go  on,  for  it  is  quite 

Why,  how  now!   Am  I  Gil..,  or  am  I  not)'  buMttag  in  ignorance.   Canning  is  haughty  and 

"The  Duke  of  Wellington  out?— bad  news  at  prejudiced— but,  I  think,  honourable  as  well  as 

home,  and  worse  abroad.   Lord  Anglesea  in  his  able:  rums  verront.     I  fear  Croker  will  shake, 

situation? — does  not  much  mend  the  matter.  and  heartily  sorry  I  should  feel  for  that.  .  .  .'' 

Duke  of  Clarence  in  the  Navy  ?— wild  work-  —Scott  to  Lockhart :  Lift,  vol.  ix.  p.  99. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  251 

home  in  the  carriage.  Wrought  in  the  afternoon,  and  tried  to  read 
De  Vere,  a  sensible  but  heavy  book,  written  by  an  able  hand — but  a 
great  bore  for  all  that.1  Wrote  in  the  evening. 

April  23. — Snowy  morning.  White  as  my  shirt.  The  little  Bain- 
bridges  came  over;  invited  to  see  the  armoury,  etc.,  which  I  stood 
showman  to.  It  is  odd  how  much  less  cubbish  the  English  boys  are 
than  the  Scotch.  Well-mannered  and  sensible  are  the  southern  boys. 
1  suppose  the  sun  brings  them  forward.  Here  comes  six  o'clock  at 
night,  and  it  is  snowing  as  if  it  had  not  snowed  these  forty  years  be- 
fore. Well,  I'll  work  away  a  couple  of  chapters — three  at  most  will 
finish  Napoleon. 

April  24. — Still  deep  snow — a  foot  thick  in  the  court-yard,  I  dare 
say.  Severe  welcome  to  the  poor  lambs  now  coming  into  the  world. 
But  what  signifies  whether  they  die  just  now,  or  a  little  while  after 
to  be  united  with  salad  at  luncheon-time  ?  It  signifies  a  good  deal 
too.  There  is  a  period,  though  a  short  one,  when  they  dance  among 
the  gowans,  and  seem  happy.  As  for  your  aged  sheep  or  wether, 
the  sooner  they  pass  to  the  Norman  side  of  the  vocabulary  the  better. 
They  are  like  some  old  dowager  ladies  and  gentlemejj  of  my  acquaint- 
ance,— no  one  cares  about  them  till  they  come  to  be  cut  up,  and  then 
we  see  how  the  tallow  lies  on  the  kidneys  and  the  chine. 

April  25. — Snow  yet,  and  it  prevents  my  walking,  and  I  grow 
bilious.  I  wrote  hard  though.  I  have  now  got  Boney  pegg'd  up  in 
the  knotty  entrails  of  Saint  Helena,  and  may  make  a  short  pause. 

So  I  finished  the  review  of  John  Home's  works,  which,  after  all, 
are  poorer  than  I  thought  them.  Good  blank  verse  and  stately  senti- 
ment, but  something  lukewarmish,  excepting  Douglas,  which  is  cer- 
tainly a  masterpiece.  Even  that  does  not  stand  the  closet.  Its  merits 
are  for  the  stage  ;  but  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  best  acting  plays  go- 
ing. Perhaps  a  play,  to  act  well,  should  not  be  too  poetical. 

There  is  a  talk  in  London  of  bringing  in  the  Marquis  of  Lans- 
downe,  then  Lauderdale  will  perhaps  come  in  here.  It  is  certain  the 
old  Tory  party  is  down  the  wind,  not  from  political  opinions,  but  from 
personal  aversion  to  Canning.  Perhaps  his  satirical  temper  has  part- 
ly occasioned  this ;  but  I  rather  consider  emulation  as  the  source  of 
it,  the  head  and  front  of  the  offending.  Croker  no  longer  rhymes  to 
joker.  He  has  made  a  good  coup,  it  is  said,  by  securing  Lord  Hert- 
ford for  the  new  administration.  D.  W.  calls  him  their  viper.  After 
all,  I  cannot  sympathise  with  that  delicacy  which  throws  up  office, 
because  the  most  eloquent  man  in  England,  and  certainly  the  only 
man  who  can  manage  the  House  of  Commons,  is  named  Minister.2 

April  26. — The  snow  still  profusely  distributed,  and  the  surface, 
as  our  hair  used  to  be  in  youth,  after  we  had  played  at  some  active 
game,  half  black,  half  white,  all  in  large  patches.  I  finished  the  crit- 

1  R,  Plumer  Ward.— See  July  4.  crisis  will  be  found  in  his  letters  to  Ixjckhart 

and  Morritt  in  Life,  vol.  iz.    (April,  May,  and 
-  A  fuller  statement  of  Scott's  views  at  this     June,  1827). 


252 


JOURNAL 


[APRIL 


icism  on  Home,  adding  a  string  of  Jacobite  anecdotes,  like  that  which 
boys  put  to  a  kite's  tail.  Sent  off  the  packet  to  Lockhart ;  at  the 
same  time  sent  Croker  a  volume  of  French  tracts,  containing  La  Porte- 
feuille  de  Bonaparte,  which  he  wished  to  see.  Received  a  great  cargo 
of  papers  from  Bernadotte,  some  curious,  and  would  have  been  inesti- 
mable two  months  back,  but  now  my  siege  is  almost  made.  Still  my 
feelings  for  poor  Count  Itterburg,1  the  lineal  and  legitimate,  make  me 
averse  to  have  much  to  do  with  this  child  of  the  revolution. 

April  27. — This  hand  of  mine  gets  to  be  like  a  kitten's  scratch, 
and  will  require  much  deciphering,  or,  what  may  be  as  well  for  the 
writer,  cannot  be  deciphered  at  all.  I  am  sure  I  cannot  read  it  my- 
self. Weather  better,  which  is  well,  as  I  shall  get  a  walk.  I  have 
been  a  little  nervous,  having  been  confined  to  the  house  for  three 
days.  Well,  I  may  be  disabled  from  duty,  but  my  tamed  spirits  and 
sense  of  dejection  have  quelled  all  that  freakishness  of  humour  which 
made  me  a  voluntary  idler.  I  present  myself  to  the  morning  task,  as 
the  hack-horse  patiently  trudges  to  the  pole  of  his  chaise,  and  backs, 
however  reluctantly,  to  have  the  traces  fixed.  Such  are  the  uses  of 
adversity. 

April  28. — Wrought  at  continuing  the  Works,  with  some  criti- 


i  Count  Itterburg,  then  in  his  20th  year, 
was  the  name  under  which  Gustavus,  the  ex- 
Crown  Prince  of  Sweden,  visited  Scotland  in 
1819.  It  was  his  intention  to  study  at  the 
University  of  Edinburgh  during  the  winter 
session,  but,  his  real  name  becoming  known, 
this  was  rendered  impracticable  by  the  curios- 
ity and  attention  of  the  public.  He  devoted 
himself  mainly  to  the  study  of  military  mat- 
ters, and  out-door  exercises,  roughing  it  in  all 
sorts  of  weather,  sometimes, — to  his  mentor 
Baron  Feller's  uneasiness, — setting  out  on  dark 
and  stormy  nights,  and  making  his  way  across 
country  from  point  to  point.  This  self-imposed 
training  was  no  doubt  with  the  secret  hope 
that  he  might  some  day  be  called  upon  by  the 
Swedes  to  oust  Bernadotte,  and  mount  the 
throne  of  the  great  Gustavus.  Mr.  Skene  saw 
a  good  deal  of  him,  and  gives  many  interesting 
details  of  his  life  in  Edinburgh,  such  as  the 
following  account  of  a  meeting  at  his  own 
house.  "  He  was  interested  with  a  set  of  por- 
traits of  the  two  last  generations  of  the  Royal 
Family  of  Scotland,  which  hung  in  my  dining- 
room,  and  which  had  been  presented  to  my 
grandfather  by  Prince  Charles  Edward,  in  con- 
sideration of  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  for  the 
Prince's  service  during  the  unfortunate  enter- 
prise of  the  year  1745,  having  raised  and  com- 
manded one  of  the  battalions  of  Lord  Lewis 
Gordon's  brigade.  The  portrait  of  Prince 
Charles  Edward,  taken  about  the  same  age  as 
Comte  Itterburg,  and  no  doubt  also  the  marked 
analogy  existing  in  the  circumstances  to  which 
they  had  been  each  reduced,  seemed  much 
to  engage  his  notice;  and  when  the  ladies  had 
retired  he  begged  me  to  give  him  some  account 
of  the  rebellion,  and  of  the  various  endeavours 
of  the  Stewarts  to  regain  the  Scottish  crown. 
The  subject  was  rather  a  comprehensive  one, 
but  having  done  my  best  to  put  him  in  posses- 


sion of  the  leading  features,  it  seemed  to  have 
taken  very  strong  hold  of  his  mind,  as  he  fre- 
quently, at  our  subsequent  meetings,  reverted 
to  the  subject.  Upon  another  occasion  by  de- 
grees the  topic  of  conversation  slipped  into  its 
wonted  channel — the  rebellion  of  1745,  its  final 
disaster,  and  the  singular  escape  of  the  Prince 
from  the  pursuit  of  his  enemies.  The  Comte 
inquired  what  effect  the  failure  of  the  enter- 
prise had  produced  upon  the  Prince's  charac- 
ter, with  whose  gallant  bearing  and  enthusi- 
asm, in  the  conduct  of  his  desperate  enterprise, 
he  evinced  the  strongest  interest  and  sympa- 
thy. I  stated  briefly  the  mortifying  disappoint- 
ments to  which  Charles  Edward  was  exposed 
in  France,  the  hopelessness  of  his  cause,  and 
the  indifference  generally  shown  to  him  by  tlie 
continental  courts,  which  so  much  preyed  on 
his  mind  as  finally  to  stifle  every  spark  of  hia 
former  character,  so  that  he  gave  himself  up 
to  a  listless  indifference,  which  terminated  in 
his  becoming  a  sot  during  the  latter  years 
of  his  life.  On  turning  round  to  the  Prince, 
who  had  been  listening  to  these  details,  I  per- 
ceived the  big  drops  chasing  each  other  down 
his  cheeks  and  therefore  changed  the  subject, 
and  he  never  again  recurred  to  it. "— Reminis- 
cences. 

Count  Itterburg,  or  Prince  Gustavus  Vasa, 
to  give  him  the  title  of  an  old  family  dignity 
which  he  assumed  in  1829,  entered  the  Austri- 
an army,  in  which  he  attained  the  rank  of 
Lieutenant  Field-Marshal.  His  services,  it  is 
needless  to  say,  were  never  required  by  the 
Swedes,  though  he  never  relinquished  his  pre- 
tensions, and  claimed  the  throne  at  his  father's 
death  in  1837  He  died  at  Pillnitz  on  the  4th 
August,  1877,  leaving  one  daughter,  the  present 
Queen  of  Saxony. 

Notices  of  his  visits  to  39  Castle  Street  and 
Abbotsford  are  given  in  the  6th  vol.  of  Life. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  253 

cism  on  Defoe.1  I  have  great  aversion,'!  cannot  tell  why,  to  stuffing 
the  "Border  Antiquities"  into  what  they  call  the  Prose  Works. 

There  is  no  encouragement,  to  be  sure,  for  doing  better,  for  no- 
body seems  to  care.  I  cannot  get  an  answer  from  J.  Ballantyne, 
whether  he  thinks  the  review  on  the  Highlands  would  be  a  better 
substitution. 

April  29. — Colonel  and  Captain  Ferguson  dined  here  with  Mr. 
Laidl#w.  I  wrote  all  the  morning,  then  cut  some  wood.  I  think  the 
weather  gets  too  warm  for  hard  work  with  the  axe,  or  I  get  too  stiff 
and  easily  tired. 

April  30. — Went  to  Jedburgh  to  circuit,  where  found  my  old 
friend  and  schoolfellow,  D,  Monypenny.*  Nothing  to-day  but  a  pack 
of  riff-raff  cases  of  petty  larceny  and  trash.  Dined  as  usual  with  the 
Judge,  and  slept  at  my  old  friend  Mr.  Shortreed's. 

1  This  refers  to  the  Miscellaneous  Prose  pp.  247-296,  forming  a  supplement  to  John  Bal- 
Works,  forming  24  vols.,  the  publication  of  lantyne's  Biographical  Notice  of  Defoe  in  the 
which  did  not  commence  until  May,  1834,  al-  same  volume.  The  "  Essay  on  Border  Antiqui- 
though,  as  is  shown  by  the  Journal,  the  author  ties"  appeared,  notwithstanding  Scott's  mis- 
was  busy  in  its  preparation.  The  "criticism  givings,  in  the  seventh  volume, 
on  Defoe  "  will  be  found  in  the  fourth  volume,  2  Lord  Pitmilly.— See  ante,  p.  79. 


MAY 

May  1. — Brought  Andrew  Shortreed  to  copy  some  things  I  want. 
Maxpopple  came  with  us  as  far  as  Lessudden,  and  we  stopped  and 
made  a  pilgrimage  to  Fair  Maiden  Lilliard's  Stone,  which  has  been 
restored  lately,  to  the  credit  of  Mr.  Walker  of  Muirhouselaw.'  Set 
my  young  clerk  to  work  when  we  came  home,  and  did  some  labori- 
ous business.  A  letter  from  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  informed  me  I  am 
chosen  Professor  of  Antiquities  to  the  Royal  Academy — a  beautiful 
professor  to  be  sure ! 

May  2. — Did  nothing  but  proofs  this  morning.  At  ten  went  to 
Selkirk  to  arrange  about  the  new  measures,  which,  like  all  new  things, 
will  throw  us  into  confusion  for  a  little  at  least.  The  weather  was  so 
exquisitely  good  that  I  walked  after  tea  to  half-past  eight,  and  en- 
joyed a  sort  of  half-lazy,  half-sulky  humour — like  Caliban's,  "  There's 
wood  enough  within."  *  Well,  I  may  be  the  bear,  but  I  must  mount 
the  ragged  staff  all  the  same.  I  set  myself  to  labour  for  R.  P.  G.1 
The  Germanic  Horrors  are  my  theme,  and  I  think  something  may  be 
yet  made  of  them. 

May  3. — An  early  visit  from  Mr.  Thomas  Stewart,  nephew  of 
Duchess  of  Wellington,  with  a  letter  from  his  aunt.  He  seems  a 
well-behaved  and  pleasant  young  man.  I  walked  him  through  the 
Glen.  Colonel  Ferguson  came  to  help  us  out  at  dinner,  and  then  we 
had  our  wine  and  wassail. 

May  4. —  Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning.  Mr.  Stewart  still 
here,  which  prevented  work;  however,  I  am  far  beforehand  with 
everything.  We  walked  a  good  deal ;  asked  Mr.  Alexander  Pringle, 
Whytbank,  to  dinner.  This  is  rather  losing  time,  though. 

May  5. —  Worked  away  upon  those  wild  affairs  of  Hoffmann 
for  Gillies.  I  think  I  have  forgot  my  German  very  much,  and  then 
the  stream  of  criticism  does  not  come  freely  at  all :  I  cannot  tell  why. 
I  gave  it  up  in  despair  at  half-past  one,  and  walked  out. 

1  The  rude  inscription  on  the  stone  placed  vino,  regarding  which  Mr.  Lockhart  says: — "It 

over  the  grave  of  this  Border  amazon,  slain  at  had  then  been  newly  started  under  the  Editor- 

Ancrum  Moor,  A.D.  1545,  ran  thus—  ship  of  Mr.  R.  P.  Gillies.    This  article,  it  is  prop- 

••  F»ir  maiden  Liliiard  lie,  under  thi.  .toe,  eru to  observe,  was  a  benefaction  to  Mr  Gillies, 

Little  was  her  stature  bot  great  wan  her  fame,  whose  pecuniary  affairs  rendered  such  assist- 

Upon  the  English  loun>  she  laid  many  thumps,  ance  very  desirable.     Scott's  generosity  in  this 

And  when^her  leg*  were  cuttet  off  the  fought  upon  her  matter— for  it  was  exactly  giving  a  poor  broth- 

tnmPs-  er  author  £100  at  the  expense  of  considerable 

See  New  Stat.  Account  Scot.,  "Roxburgh,"  p.  time  and  drudgery  to  himself— I  think  it  nec- 

244.  essary  to  mention ;  the  date  of  the  exertion  ro- 

*  Tempest,  Act  i.  Sc.  2.  quires  it  of  me.  "-rLife,  vol.  ix.  pp.  72-3;  see 

'  An  article  for  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Re-  S£i*c.  Prose  Works,  voL  xviii.  p.  270. 


MAY,  1827.]  JOURNAL  255 

Had  a  letter  from  R.  P.  G.  He  seems  in  spirits  about  his  work. 
I  wish  it  may  answer.  Under  good  encouragement  it  certainly 
might.  But 

Maxpopple  came  to  dinner,  and  Mr.  Laidlaw  after  dinner,  so 
that  broke  up  the  day,  which  I  can  ill  spare.  Mr.  Stewart  left  us 
this  day. 

May  6. — Wrought  again  at  Hoffmann — unfructuously  I  fear — 
unwillingly  I  am  certain  ;  but  how  else  can  I  do  a  little  good  in  my 
generation  ?  I  will  try  a  walk.  I  would  fain  catch  myself  in  good- 
humour  with  my  task,  but  that  will  not  be  easy. 

May  7. — Finished  Hoffmann,  talis  qualis.  I  don't  like  it ;  but 
then  I  have  been  often  displeased  with  things  that  have  proved  suc- 
cessful. Our  own  labours  become  disgusting  in  our  eyes,  from  the 
ideas  having  been  turned  over  and  over  in  our  own  minds.  To  others, 
to  whom  they  are  presented  for  the  first  time,  they  have  a  show  of 
novelty.  God  grant  it  may  prove  so.  I  would  help  the  poor  fellow 
if  I  could,  for  I  am  poor  myself. 

May  8. — Corrected  Hoffmann  with  a  view  to  send  him  off,  which, 
however,  I  could  not  accomplish.  I  finished  a  criticism  on  Defoe's 
Writings.1  His  great  forte  is  his  power  of  vraisemblance.  This  I 
have  instanced  in  the  story  of  Mrs.  Veal's  Ghost.  Ettrick  Shepherd 
arrived. 

May  9. — This  day  we  went  to  dinner  at  Mr.  Scrope's,  at  the  Pa- 
vilion, where  were  the  Haigs  of  Bemerside,  Isaac  Haig,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bainbridge,  etc.  Warm  dispute  whether  par  are  or  are  not  salmon 
trout.  "  Fleas  are  not  lobsters,  d — n  their  souls." 

Mr.  Scrope  has  made  a  painting  of  Tivoli,  which,  when  mellowed 
a  little  by  time,  will  be  a  fine  one.  Letters  from  Lockhart,  with  news 
concerning  the  beautiful  mess  they  are  making  in  London.  Henry 
Scott  will  be  threatened  in  Roxburghshire.  This  would  be  bad 
policy,  as  it  would  drive  the  young  Duke  to  take  up  his  ground, 
which,  unless  pressed,  he  may  be  in  no  hurry  to  do.  Personally,  I 
do  not  like  to  be  driven  to  a  point,  as  I  think  Canning  may  do  much 
for  the  country,  provided  he  does  not  stand  committed  to  his  new 
Whig  counsellors.  But  if  the  push  does  come,  I  will  not  quit  my  old 
friends — that  I  am  freely  resolved,  and  dissolutely,  as  Slender  says.a 

May  10. — We  went  to  breakfast  at  Huntly  Burn,  and  I  wandered 
all  the  morning  in  the  woods  to  avoid  an  English  party  who  came  to 
see  the  house.  When  I  came  home  I  found  my  cousin  Col.  Russell, 
and  his  sister,  so  I  had  no  work  to-day  but  my  labour  at  proofs  in  the 
morning.  To-day  I  dismiss  my  aide-de-camp,  Shortreed — a  fine  lad. 
The  Boar  of  the  Forest  left  us  after  breakfast.  Had  a  present  of  a 
medal  forming  one  of  a  series  from  Chantrey's  busts.  But  this  is 
not  for  nothing:  the  donor  wants  a  motto  for  the  reverse  of  the 
King's  medal.  I  am  a  bad  hand  to  apply  to. 

>  See  note  1,  p.  253.  a  Merry  Wivet,  Act  i.  So.  1. 


256  JOURNAL  [MAY 

May  11. — Hogg  called  this  morning  to  converse  about  trying  to 
get  him  on  the  pecuniary  list  of  the  Royal  Literary  Society.  Cer- 
tainly he  deserves  it,  if  genius  and  necessity  could  do  so.  But  I  do 
not  belong  to  the  society,  nor  do  I  propose  to  enter  it  as  a  coadjutor. 
I  don't  like  your  royal  academies  of  this  kind ;  they  almost  always 
fall  into  jobs,  and  the  members  are  seldom  those  who  do  credit  to  the 
literature  of  a  country.  It  affected,  too,  to  comprehend  those  men  of 
letters  who  are  specially  attached  to  the  Crown,  and  though  I  love  and 
honour  my  King  as  much  as  any  of  them  can,  yet  I  hold  it  best,  in 
this  free  country,  to  preserve  the  exterior  of  independence,  that  my 
loyalty  may  be  the  more  impressive,  and  tell  more  effectually.  Yet  I 
wish  sincerely  to  help  poor  Hogg,  and  have  written  to  Lockhart 
about  it.  It  may  be  ray  own  desolate  feelings — it  may  be  the  appre- 
hension of  evil  from  this  political  hocus-pocus,  but  I  have  seldom  felt 
more  moody  and  uncomfortable  than  while  writing  these  lines.  I 
have  walked,  too,  but  without  effect.  W.  Laidlaw,  whose  very  ingen- 
ious mind  is  delighted  with  all  novelties,  talked  nonsense  about  the 
new  government,  in  which  men  are  to  resign  principle,  I  fear,  on  both 
sides. 

May  12. — Wrote  Lockhart  on  what  I  think  the  upright  and  hon- 
est principle,  and  am  resolved  to  vex  myself  no  more  about  it. 
Walked  with  my  cousin,  Colonel  Russell,  for  three  hours  in  the 
woods,  and  enjoyed  the  sublime  and  delectable  pleasure  of  being  well, 
— and  listened  to  on  the  subject  of  my  favourite  themes  of  laying  out 
ground  and  plantation.  Russell  seems  quite  to  follow  such  an  excel- 
lent authority,  and  my  spirits  mounted  while  I  found  I  was  harang- 
uing to  a  willing  and  patient  pupil.  To  be  sure,  Ashestiel,  planting 
the  high  knolls,  and  drawing  woodland  through  the  pasture,  could  be 
made  one  of  the  most  beautiful  forest  things  in  the  world.  I  have 
often  dreamed  of  putting  it  in  high  order  ;  and,  judging  from  what  I 
have  been  able  to  do  here,  I  think  I  should  have  succeeded.  At  any 
rate,  my  blue  devils  are  flown  at  the  sense  of  retaining  some  sort  of 
consequence.  Lord,  what  fools  we  are  ! 

May  13. — A  most  idle  and  dissipated  day.  I  did  not  rise  till 
half-past  eight  o'clock.  Col.  and  Capt.  Ferguson  came  to  breakfast. 
I  walked  half-way  home  with  them,  then  turned  back  and  spent  the 
day,  which  was  delightful,  wandering  from  place  to  place  in  the  woods, 
sometimes  reading  the  new  and  interesting  volumes  of  Cyril  Thorn- 
ton,1 sometimes  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancy  which 
strangely  alternated  in  my  mind,  idly  stirred  by  the  succession  of  a 
thousand  vague  thoughts  and  fears,  the  gay  thoughts  strangely  min- 
gled with  those  of  dismal  melancholy ;  tears,  which  seemed  ready  to 
flow  unbidden ;  smiles,  which  approached  to  those  of  insanity ;  all 
that  wild  variety  of  mood  which  solitude  engenders.  I  scribbled 

1  The  Youth  and  Manhood  of  Cyril  Thornton,  by  Captain  Thomas  Hamilton,  had  just  been  pub- 
lished anonymously. 


JOURNAL  257 

some  verses,  or  rather  composed  them  in  rny  memory.  The  contrast 
at  leaving  Abbotsford  to  former  departures  is  of  an  agitating  and  vio- 
lent description.  Assorting  papers  and  so  forth.  I  never  could 
help  admiring  the  concatenation  between  Ahitophel's  setting  his 
house  in  order  and  hanging  himself.  The  one  seems  to  me  to  follow 
the  other  as  a  matter  of  course.  I  don't  mind  the  trouble,  though 
my  head  swims  with  it.  I  do  not  mind  meeting  accounts,  which  un- 
paid remind  you  of  your  distress,  or  paid  serve  to  show  you  you  have 
been  throwing  away  money  you  would  be  glad  to  have  back  again.  I 
do  not  mind  the  strange  contradictory  mode  of  papers  hiding  them7 
selves  that  you  wish  to  see,  and  others  thrusting  themselves  into 
your  hand  to  confuse  and  bewilder  you.  There  is  a  clergyman's  let- 
ter about  the  Scottish  pronunciation,  to  which  I  had  written  an  an- 
swer some  weeks  since  (the  parson  is  an  ass,  by  the  by).  But  I  had 
laid  aside  my  answer,  being  unable  to  find  the  letter  which  bore  his 
address ;  and,  in  the  course  of  this  day,  both  his  letter  with  the  ad- 
dress, and  my  answer  which  wanted  the  address,  fell  into  my  hands 
half-a-dozen  times,  but  separately  always.  This  was  the  positive  mal- 
ice of  some  hobgoblin,  and  I  submit  to  it  as  such.  But  what  fright- 
ens and  disgusts  me  is  those  fearful  letters  from  those  who  have  been 
long  dead,  to  those  who  linger  on  their  wayfare  through  this  valley  of 
tears.  These  fine  lines  of  Spencer  came  into  my  head — 

"  When  midnight  o'er  the  pathless  skies."  l 

Ay,  and  can  I  forget  the  author ! — the  frightful  moral  of  his  own  vis- 
ion. What  is  this  world  ?  A  dream  within  a  dream — as  we  grow 
older  each  step  is  an  awakening.  The  youth  awakes  as  he  thinks 
from  childhood — the  full-grown  man  despises  the  pursuits  of  youth 
as  visionary — the  old  man  looks  on  manhood  as  a  feverish  dream. 
The  Grave  the  last  sleep  ? — no  ;  it  is  the  last  and  final  awakening. 

May  14. — To  town  per  Blucher  coach,  well  stowed  and  crushed, 
but  saved  cash,  coming  off  for  less  than  £2  ;  posting  costs  nearly  five, 
and  you  don't  get  on  so  fast  by  one-third.  Arrived  in  my  old  lodg- 
ings here  with  a  stouter  heart  than  I  expected.  Dined  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Skene,  and  met  Lord  Medwyn  and  lady. 

May  15. — Parliament  House  a  queer  sight.  Looked  as  if  people 
were  singing  to  each  other  the  noble  song  of  "  The  sky's  falling — 
chickie  diddle."  Thinks  I  to  myself,  I'll  keep  a  calm  sough. 

1  Mr.  I.ockhart  adds  the  following  lines: —  1811,  p.  fi8.)    "The  best  writer  otvers  (If.  iociete 

"The  shade  of  -nnthful  ho      is  th  re  'U  OUr  t'm6'  an^  ono  oi  lnc  most  charming  of 

That  lingered  imip,  and  latest  died;  companions,  was  exactly  Sir  Walter's  contem- 

Ambitiom  all  dissolved  to  air,  porary,  and,  like  him,  first  attracted  notice  by  a 

With  phantom  honours  by  his  «ide.  version  of  Burger's   Lenore.     Like  him,  too, 

"  What  empty  shadows  glimmer  nigh?  tnis  remarkable  man  fell  into  pecuniary  dis- 

They  oii'-e  were  friendship,  truth,  and  love !  tress  in  the  disastrous  year  1825,  and  he  was 

Oh,  die  to  thought,  to  memory  die,  now  (1826)  an  involuntary  resident  in  Paris, 

where  he  died  in  October,  1834,  anno  atat.  65." 

(Poems  by  the  Hon.  W.  R.  Spencer.  London.  — j.  a.  I* 

17 


258  JOURNAL  [MAY 

"Betwixt  both  sides  I  unconcerned  stand  by; 
Hurt,  can  I  laugh,  and  honest,  need  I  cry?" 

I  wish  the  old  Government  had  kept  together,  but  their  personal 
dislike  to  Canning  seems  to  have  rendered  that  impossible. 

I  dined  at  a  great  dinner  given  by  Sir  George  Clerk  to  his  elec- 
tors, the  freeholders  of  Midlothian ;  a  great  attendance  of  Whig  and 
Tory,  huzzaing  each  other's  toasts.  If  is  a  good  peacemaker,  but  quar- 
ter-day is  a  better.  I  have  a  guess  the  best  gamecocks  would  call  a 
truce  if  a  handful  or  two  of  oats  were  scattered  among  them. 

May  16. — Mr.  John  Gibson  says  the  Trustees  are  to  allow  my  ex- 
pense in  travelling — 41300,  with  £50  taken  in  in  Longman's  bill.  This 
will  place  me  rectus  in  curia,  and  not  much  more,  faith  ! 

There  is  a  fellow  bawling  out  a  ditty  in  the  street,  the  burthen  of 
which  is 

"  There's  nothing  but  poverty  everywhere." 

He  shall  not  be  a  penny  richer  for  telling  me  what  I  know  but  too 
well  without  him. 

May  17. — Learned  with  great  distress  the  death  of  poor  Richard 
Lockhart,  the  youngest  brother  of  my  son-in-law.  He  had  an  exquis- 
ite talent  for  acquiring  languages,  and  was  under  the  patronage  of  my 
kinsman,  George  Swinton,  who  had  taken  him  into  his  own  family  at 
Calcutta,  and  now  he  is  drowned  in  a  foolish  bathing  party. 

May  1 8. — Heard  from  Abbotsf ord  ;  all  well.  Wrought  to-day  but 
awkwardly.  Tom  Campbell  called,  warm  from  his  Glasgow  Rector- 
ship ;  he  is  looking  very  well.  He  seemed  surprised  that  I  did  not 
know  anything  about  the  contentions  of  Tories,  Whigs,  and  Radicals, 
in  the  great  commercial  city.  I  have  other  eggs  on  the  spit.  He 
stayed  but  a  few  minutes.1 

May  19. — Went  out  to-day  to  Sir  John  Dalrymple's,*  atOxenford, 
a  pretty  place  ;  the  lady  a  daughter  of  Lord  Duncan.  Will  Clerk  and 
Robert  Graeme  went  with  me.  A  good  dinner  and  pleasant  enough 
party ;  but  ten  miles  going  and  ten  miles  coming  make  twenty,  and 
that  is  something  of  a  journey.  Got  a  headache  too  by  jolting  about 
after  dinner. 

May  20. — Wrote  a  good  deal  at  Appendix  [to  Bonaparte],  or  per- 
haps I  should  say  tried  to  write.  Got  myself  into  a  fever  when  I  had 

>  The  following  note  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skene  shoulders,  and  am  obliged  to  deprive  myself  of 

belongs  to  this  day : —  the  pleasure  of  waiting  upon  you  to-day  to  din- 

My  dear  Friends,— I  am  just  returned  from  ner,  to  my  great  mortification.— Always  yours, 
Court  dreeping  like  the  Water  Kelpy  when  he  WALTER  SCOTT. 

had  finished  the  Laird  of  Morphey's  Bridge,         WALKS*  STBICT, 

and  am,  like  that  ill-used  drudge  disposed  to  Friday,  isrt  May  1887. 

Sair  back  and  »ir  bane«.i  —  Skene' t  Reminiscence* 

In  fact  I  have  the  rheumatism  in  head  and          *  Afterwards  (in  1840)  eighth  Earl  of  Stair. 

I  Sair  back  and  «»ir  banes 

Carrying  the  Lord  of  Morphey'i  tUuiM. 

Border  Virutreliy,  vol.  iii.  pp.  360,  365. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  259 

finished  four  pages,  and  went  out  at  eight  o'clock  at  night  to  cool  my- 
self if  possible.  Walked  with  difficulty  as  far  as  Skene's,1  and  there 
sat  and  got  out  of  my  fidgety  feeling.  Learned  that  the  Princes  Street 
people  intend  to  present  me  with  the  key  of  their  gardens,  which  will 
be  a  great  treat,  as  I  am  too  tender-hoofed  for  the  stones.  We  must 
now  get  to  work  in  earnest. 

May  21. — Accordingly  this  day  I  wrought  tightly,  and  though  not 
in  my  very  best  mood  I  got  on  in  a  very  business-like  manner.  Was 
at  the  Gas  Council,  where  I  found  things  getting  poorly  on.  The 
Treasury  have  remitted  us  to  the  Exchequer.  The  Committee  want 
me  to  make  private  interest  with  the  L.  C.  Baron.  That  I  won't  do, 
but  I  will  state  their  cause  publicly  any  way  they  like. 

May  22. — At  Court — home  by  two,  walking  through  the  Princes 
Street  Gardens  for  the  first  time.  Called  on  Mrs.  Jobson.  Worked 
two  hours.  Must  dress  to  dine  at  Mr.  John  Borthwick's,  with  the 
young  folk,  now  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dempster.2  Kindly  and  affectionately 
received  by  my  good  young  friends,  who  seem  to  have  succeeded  to 
their  parents'  regard  for  me. 

May  23. — Got  some  books,  etc.,  which  I  wanted  to  make  up  the 
Saint  Helena  affair.  Set  about  making  up  the  Appendix,  but  found 
I  had  mislaid  a  number  of  the  said  postliminary  affair.  Had  Hogg's 
nephew  here  as  a  transcriber,  a  modest  and  well-behaved  young  man 
— clever,  too,  I  think.3  Being  Teind  Wednesday  I  was  not  obliged 
to  go  to  the  Court,  and  am  now  bang  up,  and  shall  soon  finish  Mr. 
Nappy.  And  how  then  ?  Ay,  marry,  sir,  that's  the  question. 

"Lord,  what  will  all  the  people  say, 
Mr.  Mayor,  Mr.  Mayor!" 

"The  fires  i'  the  lowest  hell  fold  in  the  people  !"4  as  Coriolanus  says. 
I  live  not  in  their  report,  I  hope. 

May  24. — Mr.  Gibson  paid  me  £70  more  of  my  London  journey. 
A  good  thought  came  into  my  head :  to  write  stories  for  little  John- 
nie Lockhart  from  the  History  of  Scotland,  like  those  taken  from  the 
History  of  England.  I  will  not  write  mine  quite  so  simply  as  Croker 
has  done.  I  am  persuaded  both  children  and  the  lower  class  of  read- 
ers hate  books  which  are  written  down  to  their  capacity,  and  love  those 
that  are  more  composed  for  their  elders  and  betters.  I  will  make,  if 
possible,  a  book  that  a  child  will  understand,  yet  a  man  will  feel  some 
temptation  to  peruse  should  he  chance  to  take  it  up.  It  will  require, 
however,  a  simplicity  of  style  not  quite  my  own.  The  grand  and  in- 

1  126  Princes  Street.  and  which  she  never  forgot,  nor  Sir  Walter's 
*  George  Dempster  of  Skibo  had  just  mar-  talk  as  he  sat  next  her  at  table,  and  with  un- 
ried  a  daughter  of  the  House  of  Arniston.   This  feigned  kindness  devoted  himself  to  her  enter- 
lady  has  had  the  singular  gratification  of  listen-  tatnment. 
ing  to  these  pleasant  impressions  of  a  dinner  3  See  Life.,  vol.  ix.  114. 
party  given  in  her  honour  sixty-two  years  ago,  4  CortoZamw,  Act  in.  So.  3. 


260  JOURNAL  [MAY 

tcresting  consists  in  ideas,  not  in  words.  A  clever  thing  of  this  kind 
will  have  a  run — 

"Little  to  say, 
But,  wrought  away, 
And  went  out  to  dine  with  the  Skencs  to-day." 

Rather  too  many  dinner  engagements  on  my  list.  Must  be  hard-heart- 
ed. I  cannot  say  I  like  my  solitary  days  the  worst  by  any  means.  I 
dine,  when  I  like,  on  soup  or  broth,  and  drink  a  glass  of  porter  or 
ginger-beer ;  a  single  tumbler  of  whisky  and  water  concludes  the  de- 
bauch. This  agrees  with  me  charmingly.  At  ten  o'clock  bread  and 
cheese,  a  single  draught  of  small  beer,  porter,  or  ginger-beer,  and  to 
bed. 

May  26. — I  went  the  same  dull  and  weary  round  out  to  the  Par- 
liament House,  which  bothers  one's  brains  for  the  day.  Neverthe- 
less, I  get  on.  Pages  vanish  from  under  my  hand,  and  find  their 
way  to  J.  Ballantyne,  who  is  grinding  away  with  his  presses.  I  think 
I  may  say,  now  I  begin  to  get  rid  of  the  dust  raised  about  me  by  so 
many  puzzling  little  facts,  that  it  is  plain  sailing  to  the  end. 

Dined  at  Skene's  with  George  Forbes  and  lady.  But  that  was 
yesterday. 

May  27. — I  got  ducked  in  coming  home  from  the  Court.  Na- 
boclish  ! — I  thank  thec,  Pat,  for  teaching  me  the  word.  Made  a  hard 
day  of  it.  Scarce  stirred  from  one  room  to  another,  but  at  bed-time 
finished  a  handsome  handful  of  copy.  I  have  quoted  Gourgaud's 
evidence  ;  I  suppose  he  will  be  in  a  rare  passion,  and  may  be  addicted 
to  vengeance,  like  a  long-moustached  son  of  a  French  bitch  as  he  is. 
Naboclish  !  again  for  that. 

"  Frenchman,  Devil,  or  Don, 
Damn  him,  let  him  come  on, 
He  sha'n't  scare  a  son  of  the  Island." ' 

May  28. — Another  day  of  uninterrupted  study ;  two  such  would 
finish  the  work  with  a  murrain.  I  have  several  engagements  next 
week ;  I  wonder  how  I  was  such  a  fool  as  to  take  them.  I  think  I 
shall  be  done,  however,  before  Saturday.  What  shall  I  have  to  think 
of  when  I  lie  down  at  night  and  awake  in  the  morning  ?  What  will 
be  my  plague  and  my  pastime,  my  curse  and  my  blessing,  as  ideas 
come  and  the  pulse  rises,  or  as  they  flag  and  something  like  a  snow 
haze  covers  my  whole  imagination  ?  I  have  my  Highland  Tales — 
and  then — never  mind,  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof. 

May  29. — Detained  at  the  House  till  near  three.  Made  a  call  on 
Mrs.  Jobson  and  others;  also  went  down  to  the  printing-office.  I 
hope  James  Ballantyne  will  do  well.  I  think  and  believe  he  will. 
Wrought  in  the  evening. 

1  Sir  Walter  varies  a  verse  of  The  tight  little  Island — J.  o.  L. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  261 

May  30. — Having  but  a  trifle  on  the  roll  to-day,  I  set  bard  to 
work,  and  brought  myself  in  for  a  holiday,  or  rather  played  truant. 
At  two  o'clock  went  to  a  Mr.  Mackenzie  in  ray  old  house  at  Castle 
Street,  to  have  some  touches  given  to  Walker's  print.1  Afterwards, 
having  young  Hogg  with  me  as  an  amanuensis,  I  took  to  the  oar  till 
near  ten  o'clock.2 

May  31. — Being  a  Court  day  I  was  engaged  very  late.  Then  I 
called  at  the  printing-house,  but  got  no  exact  calculation  how  we 
come  on.  Met  Mr.  Cadell,  who  bids,  as  the  author's  copy  [money] 
Is.  profit  on  each  book  of  Hugh  Littlejohn.  I  thought  this  too  little. 
My  general  calculation  is  on  such  profits,  that,  supposing  the  book  to 
sell  to  the  public  for  Vs.  6d.,  the  price  ought  to  go  in  three  shares — 
one  to  the  trade,  one  to  the  expense  of  print  and  paper,  and  one  to 
the  author  and  publisher  between  them,  which  of  course  would  be 
Is.  3d.,  not  Is.  to  the  author.  But  in  stating  this  rule  I  omitted  to 
observe  that  books  for  young  persons  are  half  bound  before  they  go 
out  into  the  trade.  This  comes  to  about  9d.  for  two  volumes.  The 
allowance  to  the  trade  is  also  heavy,  so  that  Is.  a  book  is  very  well 
on  great  numbers.  There  may  besides  be  a  third  volume. 

Dined  at  James  Ballantyne's,  and  heard  his  brother  Sandy  sing 
and  play  on  the  violin,  beautifully  as  usual.  James  himself  sang  the 
Reel  of  Tullochgorum,  with  hearty  cheer  and  uplifted  voice.  When 
I  came  home  I  learned  that  we  had  beat  the  Coal  Gas  Company,  which 
is  a  sort  of  triumph. 

1  The  engraving  from  Raeburn's  picture. —  liarity  in  Scott's  dictation,  that  with  the  great- 
See  ante,  p.  138.  est  ease  he  was  able  to  carry  on  two  trains  of 

2  Mr.  Robert  Hogg  relates  that  during  those  thought  at  one  time,  "one  of  which  was  al- 
few  days  Sir  W.  and  he  laboured  from  six  in  ready  arranged,  and  in  the  act  of  being  spoken, 
the  morning  till  the  same  hour  in  the  evening,  while  at  the  same  time  he  was  in  advance  con- 
with  the  exception  of  the  intervals  allowed  for  sidering  what  was  afterwards  to  be  said. " — See 
breakfast  and  lunch,  which  were  served  in  the  his  interesting  letter  to  Mr.  Lockhart,  Life,  vol. 
room  to  save  time.     He  noted  a  striking  pecu-  ix.  pp.  115-117. 


JUNE 

June  1. — Settled  my  household-book.  Sophia  does  not  set  out 
till  the  middle  of  the  week,  which  is  unlucky,  our  antiquarian  skir- 
mish beginning  in  Fife  just  about  the  time  she  is  to  arrive.  Letter 
from  John  touching  public  affairs  ;  don't  half  like  them,  and  am  afraid 
we  shall  have  the  Whig  alliance  turn  out  like  the  calling  in  of  the 
Saxons.  I  told  this  to  Jeffrey,  who  said  they  would  convert  us,  as 
the  Saxons  did  the  British.  I  shall  die  in  my  Paganism  for  one.  I 
don't  like  a  bone  of  them  as  a  party.  Ugly  reports  of  the  King's 
health ;  God  pity  this  poor  country  should  that  be  so,  but  I  think  it 
a  thing  devised  by  the  enemy.  Anne  arrived  from  Abbotsford.  I 
dined  at  Sir  Robert  Dundas's,  with  Mrs.  Dundas,  Arniston,  and  other 
friends.  Worked  a  little,  not  much. 

June  2. — Do.  Do.  Dined  at  Baron  Hume's.  These  dinners  are 
cruelly  in  the  way,  but  que  faut-il  faire  ?  the  business  of  the  Court 
must  be  done,  and  it  is  impossible  absolutely  to  break  off  all  habits 
of  visiting.  Besides,  the  correcting  of  proof-sheets  in  itself  is  now 
become  burdensome.  Three  or  four  a  day  is  hard  work. 

June  3. — Wrought  hard.  I  think  I  have  but  a  trifle  more  to  do, 
but  new  things  cast  up ;  we  get  beyond  the  life,  however,  for  I  have 
killed  him  to-day.  The  newspapers  are  very  saucy ;  The  Sun  says 
I  have  got  £4000  for  suffering  a  Frenchman  to  look  over  my  manu- 
script. Here  is  a  proper  fellow  for  you  !  I  wonder  what  he  thinks 
Frenchmen  are  made  of — walking  money-bags,  doubtless.  Now  as 
Sir  Fretful  Plagiary1  says,  another  man  would  be  mad  at  this,  but  I 
care  not  one  brass  farthing. 

June  4. — The  birthday  of  our  good  old  king.  It  was  wrong  not 
to  keep  up  the  thing  as  it  was  of  yore  with  dinners,  and  claret,  and 
squibs,  and  crackers,  and  saturnalia.  The  thoughts  of  the  subjects 
require  sometimes  to  be  turned  to  the  sovereign,  were  it  but  only  that 
they  may  remember  there  is  such  a  person. 

The  Bannatyne  edition  of  Melville's  Memoirs  is  out,  and  beats  all 
print.  Gad,  it  is  a  fine  institution  that ;  a  rare  one,  by  Jove  !  beats 
the  Roxburghe.  Wrought  very  bobbishly  to-day,  but  went  off  at 
dinner-time  to  Thomas  Thomson,  where  we  had  good  cheer  and  good 
fun.  By  the  way,  we  have  lost  our  Coal  Gas  Bill.  Sorry  for  it,  but 
I  can't  cry. 

June  5. — Proofs.     Parliament  House  till  two.     Commenced  the 

i  Sheridan's  Critic,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 


JUNE,  1827.]  JOURNAL  263 

character  of  Bonaparte.  To-morrow  being  a  Teind-day  I  will  hope 
to  get  it  finished.  Meantime  I  go  out  to-night  to  see  Frankenstein  at 
the  theatre. 

June  6. — Frankenstein  is  entertaining  for  once — considerable  art 
in  the  man  that  plays  the  Monster,  to  whom  he  gave  great  effect. 
Cooper  is  his  name ;  played  excellently  in  the  farce  too,  as  a  sailor 
— a  more  natural  one,  I  think,  than  my  old  friend  Jack  Bannister, 
though  he  has  not  quite  Jack's  richness  of  humour.  I  had  seven 
proof-sheets  to  correct  this  morning,  by  Goles.  So  I  did  not  get  to 
composition  till  nine ;  work  on  with  little  interruption  (save  that  Mr. 
Verplanck,  an  American,  breakfasted  with  us)  until  seven,  and  then 
walked,  for  fear  of  the  black  dog  or  devil  that  worries  me  when  I 
work  too  hard. 

Jane  1 .  —  This  morning  finished  Boney.  And  now,  as  Dame 
Fortune  says,  in  Quevedo's  Visions,  Go,  wheel,  and  the  devil  drive  thee.1 
It  was  high  time  I  brought  up  some  reinforcements,  for  my  pound 
was  come  to  half-crowns,  and  I  had  nothing  to  keep  house  when  the 
Lockharts  come.  Credit  enough  to  be  sure,  but  I  have  been  taught 
by  experience  to  make  short  reckonings.  Some  great  authors  now 
will  think  it  a  degradation  to  write  a  child's  book  ;  I  cannot  say  I  feel 
it  such.  It  is  to  be  inscribed  to  my  grandson,  and  I  will  write  it  not 
only  without  a  sense  of  its  being  infra  dig.  but  with  a  grandfather's 
pleasure. 

I  arranged  with  Mr.  Cadell  for  the  property  of  Tales  of  a  Grand- 
father, 10,000  copies  for  £787,  10s. 

June  8. — A  Mr.  May  wood,  much  protected  by  poor  Alister  Dhu, 
brought  me  a  letter  from  the  late  Colonel  Huxley.  His  connection 
and  approach  to  me  is  through  the  grave,  but  I  will  not  be  •  the  less 
disposed  to  assist  him  if  an  opportunity  offers.  I  made  a  long  round 
to-day,  going  to  David  Laing's  about  forwarding  the  books  of  the 
Bannatyne  Club  to  Sir  George  Rose  and  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Then 
I  came  round  by  the  printing-office,  where  the  presses  are  groaning 
upon  Napoleon,  and  so  home  through  the  gardens.  I  have  done  little 
to-day  save  writing  a  letter  or  two,  for  I  was  fatigued  and  sleepy 
when  I  got  home,  and  nodded,  I  think,  over  Sir  James  Melville's  Me- 
moirs. I  will  do  something,  though,  when  I  have  dined.  By  the 
way,  I  corrected  the  proofs  for  Gillies ;  they  read  better  than  I  look- 
ed for. 

June  9. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning.  When  I  came  home 
from  Court  I  found  that  John  Lockhart  and  Sophia  were  arrived  by 
the  steam-boat  at  Portobello,  where  they  have  a  small  lodging.  I 
went  down  with  a  bottle  of  Champagne,  and  a  flask  of  Maraschino, 
and  made  buirdly  cheer  with  them  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Had  the 

i  "No  sooner  had  the  Sun  uttered  these  sion.    Fortune  gave  a  mighty  squeak,  saying, 

words  than  Fortune,  as  if  she  had  been  play-  'Fly,  wheel,  and  the   devil  drive  thee.'"- 

ing'  on  a  cymbal,  began  to  unwind  her  wheel,  Fortune  in  her  Wits,  Quevedo.     English  trans, 

which,  whirling  about  like  a  hurricane,  hud-  (1798),  vol.  iii.  p.  107. 
died  all  the  world  into  au  unparalleled  confu- 


264  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

great  pleasure  to  find  them  all  in  high  health.  Poor  Johnny  is  de- 
cidedly improved  in  his  general  health,  and  the  injury  on  the  spine 
is  got  no  worse.  Walter  is  a  very  fine  child. 

June  10. — Rose  with  the  odd  consciousness  of  being  free  of  my 
daily  task.  I  have  heard  that  the  fish-women  go  to  church  of  a 
Sunday  with  their  creels  new  washed,  and  a  few  stones  in  them  for 
ballast,  just  because  they  cannot  walk  steadily  without  their  usual 
load.  I  feel  somewhat  like  this,  and  rather  inclined  to  pick  up  some 
light  task,  than  to  be  altogether  idle.  I  have  my  proof-sheets,  to  lie 
sure  ;  but  what  are  these  to  a  whole  day  ?  Fortunately  my  thoughts 
are  agreeable  ;  cash  difficulties,  etc.,  all  provided  for,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  so  that  we  go  on  hooly  and  fairly.  Betwixt  and  August  1st  I 
should  receive  £750,  and  I  cannot  think  I  have  more  than  the  half 
of  it  to  pay  away.  Cash,  to  be  sure,  seems  to  burn  in  my  pocket. 
"  He  wasna  gien  to  great  misguiding,  but  coin  his  pouches  wouldna 
bide  in." '  By  goles,  this  shall  be  corrected,  though  !  Lockhart  gives 
a  sad  account  of  Gillies's  imprudences.  Lockhart  dined  with  us.  Day 
idle. 

June  11. — The  attendance  on  the  Committee,  and  afterwards  the 
general  meeting  of  the  Oil  Gas  Company  took  up  my  morning,  and 
the  rest  dribbled  away  in  correcting  proofs  and  trifling;  reading, 
among  the  rest,  an  odd  volume  of  Vivian  Grey  ;a  clever,  but  not  so 
much  so  as  to  make  me,  in  this  sultry  weather,  go  up-stairs  to  the 
drawing-room  to  seek  the  other  volumes.  Ah !  villain,  but  you  smoked 
when  you  read. — Well,  Madam,  perhaps  I  think  the  better  of  the  book 
for  that  reason.  Made  a  blunder, — went  to  Ravelston  on  the  wrong 
day.  This  Anne's  fault,  but  I  did  not  reproach  her,  knowing  it  might 
as  well  have  been  my  own. 

June  12. — At  Court,  a  long  hearing.  Got  home  only  about  three. 
Corrected  proofs,  etc.  Dined  with  Baron  Clerk,  and  met  several  old 
friends ;  Will  Clerk  in  particular. 

June  13. — Another  long  seat  at  Court.  Almost  overcome  by  the 
heat  in  walking  home,  and  rendered  useless  for  the  day.  Let  me  be 
thankful,  however ;  my  lameness  is  much  better,  and  the  nerves  of 
my  unfortunate  ankle  are  so  much  strengthened  that  I  walk  with 
comparatively  little  pain.  Dined  at  John  Swinton's ;  a  large  party. 
These  festive  occasions  consume  much  valuable  time,  besides  trying 
the  stomach  a  little  by  late  hours,  and  some  wine  shed,  though  that's 
not  much. 

June  14. — Anne  and  Sophia  dined.  Could  not  stay  at  home 
with  them  alone.  We  had  the  Skenes  and  Allan,  and  amused  our- 
selvtes  till  ten  o'clock. 

June  15. — This  being  the  day  long  since  appointed  for  our  cruise 
to  Fife,  Thomas  Thomson,  Sir  A.  Ferguson,  Will  Clerk,  and  I,  set  off 

1  Burns:  "On  a  Scotch   Bard,  gone  to  the          J  Vivian   Grey,  by  Benjamin  Disraeli,  was 
West  Indies."  published  anonymously  in  5  vols.  12mo,  1826-7. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  265 

with  Miss  Adarn,  and  made  our  journey  successfully  to  Charlton, 
where  met  Lord  Chief-Baron  and  Lord  Chief-Commissioner,  all  in  the 
humour  to  b,e  happy,  though  time  is  telling  with  us  all.  Our  good- 
natured  host,  Mr.  A.  Thomson,  his  wife,  and  his  good-looking  daugh- 
ters, received  us  most  kindly,  and  the  conversation  took  its  old  roll, 
in  spite  of  woes  and  infirmities.  Charlton  is  a  good  house,  in  the 
midst  of  highly  -  cultivated  land,  and  immediately  surrounded  with 
gardens  and  parterres,  together  with  plantations,  partly  in  the  old, 
partly  in  the  new,  taste  ;  I  like  it  very  much  ;  though,  as  a  residence, 
it  is  perhaps  a  little  too  much  finished.  Not  even  a  bit  of  bog  to 
amuse  one,  as  Mr.  Elphinstone  said. 

June  16. — This  day  we  went  off  in  a  body  to  St.  Andrews,  which 
Thomas  Thomson  had  never  seen.  On  the  road  beyond  Charlton 
saw  a  small  cottage  said  to  have  been  the  heritable  appanage  of  a 
family  called  the  Keays  [?].  He  had  a  right  to  feed  his  horse  for  a 
certain  time  on  the  adjoining  pasture.  This  functionary  was  sent  to 
Falkland  with  the  fish  for  the  royal  table.  The  ruins  at  St.  Andrews 
have  been  lately  cleared  out.  They  had  been  chiefly  magnificent 
from  their  size — not  their  extent  of  ornament.  I  did  not  go  up  to 
St.  Rule's  Tower  as  on  former  occasions ;  this  is  a  falling  off,  for  when 
before  did  I  remain  sitting  below  when  there  was  a  steeple  to  be  as- 
cended? But  the  rheumatism  has  begun  to  change  that  vein  for 
some  time  past,  though  I  think  this  is  the  first  decided  sign  of  acqui- 
escence in  my  lot.  I  sat  down  on  a  grave-stone,  and  recollected  the 
first  visit  I  made  to  St.  Andrews,  now  thirty-four  years  ago.  What 
changes  in  my  feeling  and  my  fortune  have  since  then  taken  place ! 
some  for  the  better,  many  for  the  worse.  I  remembered  the  name  I 
then  carved  in  Runic  characters  on  the  turf  beside  the  castle-gate, 
and  I  asked  why  it  should  still  agitate  my  heart.  But  my  friends 
came  down  from  the  tower,  and  the  foolish  idea  was  chased  away.1 

June  17. — Lounged  about  while  the  good  family  went  to  church. 
The  day  is  rather  cold  and  disposed  to  rain.  The  papers  say  that 
the  Corn  Bill  is  given  up  in  consequence  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
having  carried  the  amendment  in  the  House  of  Lords.  All  the  party 
here — Sir  A.  F.  perhaps  excepted — are  Ministerialists  on  the  present 
double  bottom.  They  say  the  names  of  Whig  and  Tory  are  now  to 
exist  no  longer.  Why  have  they  existed  at  all  ? 

In  the  forenoon  we  went  off  to  explore  the  environs ;  we  visited 
two  ancient  manor-houses,  those  of  Elie  and  Balcaskie.  Large  roomy 
mansions,  with  good  apartments,  two  or  three  good  portraits,  and  a 

1  If  the  reader  turns  to  December  18,  1825,  was  "Williamina  Belches,  sole  child  and  heir 
he  will  see  that  this  is  not  the  first  allusion  in  of  a  gentleman  who  was  a  cadet  of  the  ancient 
the  Journal  to  his  "first  love," — an  innocent  family  of  Invermay,  and  who  afterwards  he- 
attachment,  to  which  we  owe  the  tenderest  came  Sir  John  Stuart  of  Fettercairn."  She 
pages,  not  only  of  Redgauntlet  (1824),  but  of  married  Sir  William  Forbes  in  1797  and  died 
the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  (1805),  and  of  in  1810.  —Life,  vol.  i.  p.  333;  Shairp's  Memoirs 
Rokeby  (1813).  In  all  these  works  the  heroine  of  Principal  Forbes,  pp.  4, 5,  8vo,  London,  1873, 
has  certain  distinctive  features  drawn  from  where  her  portrait,  engraved  from  a  miniature, 
one  and  the  same  haunting  dream.  The  lady  is  given. 


266  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

collection  of  most  extraordinary  frights,  prodigiously  like  the  mis- 
tresses of  King  George  i.,  who  "  came  for  all  the  goods  and  chattels" 
of  old  England.  There  are  at  Elie  House  two  most  ferocious-looking 
Ogresses  of  this  cast.  There  are  noble  trees  about  the  house.  Bal- 
caskie  put  me  in  mind  of  poor  Philip  Anstruther,  dead  and  gone 
many  a  long  year  since.  He  was  a  fine,  gallant,  light-hearted  young 
sailor.  I  remember  the  story  of  his  drawing  on  his  father  for  some 
cash,  which  produced  an  angry  letter  from  old  Sir  Robert,  to  which 
Philip  replied,  that  if  he  did  not  know  how  to  write  like  a  gentleman, 
he  did  not  desire  any  more  of  his  correspondence.  Balcaskie  is  much 
dilapidated ;  but  they  are  restoring  the  house  in  the  good  old  style, 
with  its  terraces  and  yew-hedges.  The  beastly  fashion  of  bringing  a 
bare  ill-kept  park  up  to  your  very  doors  seems  going  down.  We  next 
visited  with  great  pleasure  the  Church  of  St.  Monans,  which  is  under 
repair,  designed  to  correspond  strictly  with  the  ancient  plan,  which  is 
the  solid,  gloomy,  but  impressive  Gothic.  It  was  built  by  David  ir., 
in  the  fulfilment  of  a  vow  made  to  St.  Monan  on  the  field  of  battle  at 
Neville's  Cross.  One  would  have  judged  the  king  to  be  thankful  for 
small  mercies,  for  certainly  St.  Monan  proved  but  an  ineffective  patron. 

Mr.  Hugh  Cleghorn1  dined  at  Charlton,  and  I  saw  him  for  the 
first  time,  having  heard  of  him  all  my  life.  He  is  an  able  man,  has 
seen  much,  and  speaks  well.  Age  has  clawed  him  in  his  clutch,  and 
he  has  become  deaf.  There  is  also  Captain  Black  of  the  navy,  sec- 
ond lieutenant  of  the  Mars  at  Trafalgar.  Villeneuve  was  brought 
on  board  that  ship  after  the  debate.  He  had  no  expectation  that  the 
British  fleet  would  have  fought  till  they  had  formed  a  regular  line. 
Captain  Black  disowns  the  idea  of  the  French  and  Spaniards  being 
drawn  up  chequer  form  for  resisting  the  British  attack,  and  jmputes 
the  appearance  of  that  array  to  sheer  accident  of  weather. 

June  18. — We  visited  Wemyss  Castle  on  our  return  to  Kinghorn. 
On  the  left,  before  descending  to  the  coast,  are  considerable  remains 
of  a  castle,  called  popularly  the  old  castle,  or  Macduff's  Castle.  That 
of  the  Thane  was  situated  at  Kennochquay,  at  no  great  distance.  The 
front  of  Wemyss  Castle,  to  the  land,  has  been  stripped  entirely  of  its 
castellated  appearance,  and  narrowly  escaped  a  new  front.  To  the 
sea  it  has  a  noble  situation,  overhanging  the  red  rocks ;  but  even  there 
the  structure  has  been  much  modernised  and  tamed.  Interior  is  a 
good  old  house,  with  large  oak  staircases,  family  pictures,  etc.  We 
were  received  by  Captain  Wemyss — a  gallant  sea-captain,  who  could 
talk  against  a  north-wester, — by  his  wife  Lady  Emma,  and  her  sister 
Lady  Isabella — beautiful  women  of  the  house  of  Errol,  and  vindicat- 
ing its  title  to  the  handsome  Hays.  We  reached  the  Pettycur  about 
half-past  one,  crossed  to  Edinburgh,  and  so  ended  our  little  excur- 

>  Hugh  Cleghorn  had  been  Professor  of  Civil  ment  in  various  foreign  missions.    A  glimpse 

History  In  St.  Andrews  for  ten  years,  after-  of  his  work  is  obtainable  in  Southey's  Life  of 

wards  becoming  tutor  to  the  Earl  of  Home,  Dr.  Andrew  Bell.     Mr.  Cleghorn  died  in  1833, 

and  subsequently  employed  by  our  Govern-  aged  83. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  26* 

sion.  Of  casualties  we  had  only  one  :  Triton,  the  house-dog  at  Charl- 
ton,  threw  down  Thomson  and  he  had  his  wrist  sprained.  A  restive 
horse  threatened  to  demolish  our  landau,  but  we  got  off  for  the  fright. 
Happily  L.  C.  B.  was  not  in  our  carriage. 

Dined  at  William  M'Kenzie's  to  meet  the  Marquis  and  Marchion- 
ess of  Stafford,  who  are  on  their  road  to  Dunrobin.  Found  them 
both  very  well. 

June  19. — -Lord  Stafford  desires  to  be  a  member  of  the  Bannatyne 
Club — also  Colin  M'Kenzie.  Sent  both  names  up  accordingly. 

The  day  furnishes  a  beggarly  record  of  trumpery.  From  eight 
o'clock  till  nine  wrote  letters,  then  Parliament  House,  where  I  had  to 
wait  on  without  anything  to  do  till  near  two,  when  rain  forced  me  into 
the  Antiquarian  museum.  Lounged  there  till  a  meeting  of  the  Oil 
Gas  Committee  at  three  o'clock.  There  remained  till  near  five.  Home 
and  smoked  a  cheroot  after  dinner.  Called  on  Thomson,  who  is  still 
disabled  by  his  sprain.  Per  eat  inter  hcec.  We  must  do  better  to- 
morrow. 

June  20. — Kept  my  word,  being  Teind  Wednesday.  Two  young 
Frenchmen,  friends  of  Gallois,  rather  interrupted  me.  I  had  asked 
them  to  breakfast,  but  they  stayed  till  twelve  o'clock,  which  is  scarce 
fair,  and  plagued  me  with  compliments.  Their  names  are  Remusat 
and  Guyzard.1  Pleasant,  good-humoured  young  men.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  interruption  I  finished  near  six  pages,  three  being  a  good 
Session-day's  work.  Allans,  vogue  la  yalere.  Dined  at  the  Solicitor's 
with  Lord  Hopetoun,  and  a  Parliament  House  party. 

June  21. — Finished  five  leaves — that  is,  betwixt  morning  and  din- 
ner-time. The  Court  detained  me  till  two  o'clock.  About  nine  leaves 
will  make  the  volume  quite  large  enough. 

By  the  way,  the  booksellers  have  taken  courage  to  print  up  2000 
more  of  the  first  edition  [of  Napoleon] ;  which,  after  the  second  vol- 
ume, they  curtailed  from  8000  to  6000.  This  will  be  £1000  more  in 
my  way,  at  least,  and  that  is  a  good  help.  We  dine  with  the  Skenes 
to-day,  Lockhart  being  with  us.2 

>  Count  Paul  de  R6musat  has  been  good  La  Remit  Franyaise,  and  who,  after  the  Revo- 
enough  to  give  me  another  view  of  this  visit  lution  of  1830,  entered,  as  did  my  father  like- 
which  will  be  read  with  interest: — "118  Fau-  wise,  upon  political  life.  M.  de  Guizard  was 

bourg  St.  Honore,  February  10, 1890. — first  prefet,  then  depute,  and  after  1848  became 

My  father  has  often  spoken  to  me  of  this  visit  Directeur  -  general  des  Beaux  Arts.     He  died 

to  Sir  Walter  Scott— for  it  was  indeed  my  fa-  about  1877  or  1878,  after  his  retirement  from 

ther,   Charles   de   RiL-musat,    member   of  the  public  life. 

French  Academy,  and  successively  Minister  of  2  "  Woodstock  placed  upwards  of  £8000  in  the 

the  Interior  and  for  Foreign  Afl'airs,  who  went  hands  of  Sir  Walter's  creditors.    The  Napoleon 

at  the  age  of  thirty  to  Abbotsford,  and  he  re-  (first  and  second  editions)  produced  for  them  a 

tained  to  the  last  days  of  his  life  a  most  lively  sum  which  it  even  now  startles  me  to  mention 

remembrance  of  the  great  novelist  who  did  not  — £18,000.     As  by  the  time  the  historical  work 

acknowledge  the  authorship  of  his  novels,  and  was  published  nearly  half  of  the  First  Series  of 

to  whom  it  was  thus  impossible  otherwise  than  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate  had  been  written, 

indirectly  to  pay  any  compliment.   It  gives  me  it  is  obvious  that  the  amount  to  which  Scott's 

great  pleasure  to  learn  that  the  visit  of  those  literary  industry,  from  the  close  of  1826  to  the 

young  men  impressed  him  favourably.    My  fa-  10th  of  June,  1827,  had  diminished  his  debt, 

ther's  companion  was  his  contemporary  aud  cannot  be  stated  at  less  than  £28,000.     Had 

friend-,  M.  Louis  de  Guizard,  who,  like  my  fa-  health  been  spared  him,  how  soon  must  he 

ther,  was  a  contributor  at  that  time  to  the  Lib-  have  freed  himself  from  all  his  encumbrances. " 

eral  press  of  the  Restoration,  the  Globe  and  — j.  G.  L. 


268 


JOURNAL 


[JUNK 


June  22. — Wrought  in  the  morning  as  usual.  Received  to  break- 
fast Dr.  Bishop,  a  brother  of  Bishop  the  composer.  He  tells  me  his 
brother  was  very  ill  when  he  wrote  "  The  Chough  and  Crow,"  and 
other  music  for  Guy  Mannering.  Singular !  but  I  do  think  illness,  if 
not  too  painful,  unseals  the  mental  eye,  and  renders  the  talents  more 
acute,  in  the  study  of  the  fine  arts  at  least.1 

I  find  the  difference  on  2000  additional  copies  will  be  £3000  in- 
stead of  £1000  in  favour  of  the  author.  My  good  friend  Publicum 
is  impatient.  Heaven  grant  his  expectations  be  not  disappointed. 
Coragio,  andiamos  f  Such  another  year  of  labour  and  success  would 
do  much  towards  making  me  a  free  man  of  the  forest.  But  I  must 
to  work  since  we  have  to  dine  with  Lord  and  Lady  Gray.  By  the 
way,  I  forgot  an  engagement  to  my  old  friend,  Lord  Justice-Clerk. 
This  is  shockingly  ill-bred.  But  the  invitation  was  a  month  old,  and 
that  is  some  defence. 

June  23. — I  corrected  proofs  and  played  the  grandfather  in  the 
morning.  After  Court  saw  Lady  Wedderburn,  who  asked  my  advice 


>  See  Life,  vol.  vi.  p.  89.  In  Mr.  Ballantyne's 
Memorandum,  there  is  a  fuller  account  of  the 
mode  in  which  T/ie  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  The 
Legend  of  Montrose,  and  almost  the  whole  of 
Ivanhoe  were  produced,  and  the  mental  phe- 
nomenon which  accompanied  the  preparation 
of  the  first-named  work: — 

"During  the  progress  of  composing  The 
Heart  of  Midlothian,  The  Bride  of  Lammer- 
moor, and  Legend  of  Montrose —  a  period  of 
many  months— Mr.  Scott's  health  had  become 
extremely  indifferent,  and  was  often  supposed 
to  place  him  in  great  danger.  But  it  would 
hardly  be  credited,  were  it  not  for  the  noto- 
riety of  the  fact,  that  although  one  of  the 
symptoms  of  his  illness  was  pain  of  the  most 
acute  description,  yet  he  never  allowed  it  to 
interrupt  his  labours.  The  only  difference  it 
produced,  that  I  am  aware  of,  was  its  causing 
him  to  employ  the  hand  of  an  amanuensis  in 
place  of  his  own.  Indeed,  during  the  greater 
l>art  of  the  day  at  this  period  he  was  confined 
to  his  bed.  The  person  employed  for  this  pur- 
pose was  the  respectable  and  intelligent  Mr. 
\Vm.  Laidlaw,  who  acted  for  him  in  this  ca- 
pacity in  the  country,  and  I  think  also  attend- 
ed him  to  town.  I  have  often  been  present 
with  Mr.  l.aidlaw  during  the  short  intervals  of 
his  labour,  and  it  was  deeply  affecting  to  hear 
the  account  he  gave  of  his  patron's  severe  suf- 
ferings, and  the  indomitable  spirit  which  ena- 
bled him  to  overmaster  them.  He  told  me 
that  very  often  the  dictation  of  Caleb  Balder- 
ston's  and  the  old  cooper's  best  jokes  was  min- 
gled with  groans  extorted  f/om  him  by  pains; 
but  that  when  he,  Mr.  L.,  endeavoured  to  pre- 
vail upon  him  to  take  a  little  respite,  the  only 
answer  he  could  obtain  from  Mr.  Scott  was  a 
request  that  he  would  see  that  the  doors  were 
carefully  shut,  so  that  the  expressions  of  his 
agony  might  not  reach  his  family — '  As  to  stop- 
ping work,  Laidlaw,'  he  said,  'you  know  that 
is  wholly  out  of  the  question. '  What  followed 
upon  these  exertions,  made  in  circumstances 
so  very  singular,  appears  to  me  to  exhibit  one 


of  the  most  singular  chapters  in  the  history  of 
the  human  intellect.  The  book  having  been 
published  before  Mr.  Scott  was  able  to  rise  from 
his  bed,  he  assured  me  that,  when  it  was  put 
into  his  hands,  he  did  not  recollect  one  single 
incident,  character,  or  conversation  it  contain- 
ed. He  by  no  means  desired  me  to  under- 
stand, nor  did  I  understand,  that  his  illness 
had  erased  from  his  memory  all  or  any  of  the 
original  family  facts  with  which  he  had  been 
acquainted  from  the  period  probably  of  his 
boyhood.  These  of  course  remained  rooted 
where  they  had  ever  been,  or,  to  speak  more 
explicitly,  where  explicitness  is  so  entirely  im- 
portant, he  remembered  the  existence  of  tin; 
father  and  mother,  the  son  and  daughter,  the 
rival  lovers,  the  compulsory  marriage,  and  the 
attack  made  by  his  bride  upon  the  unhappy 
bridegroom,  with  the  general  catastrophe  of 
the  whole.  All  these  things  he  recollected, 
just  as  he  did  before  he  took  to  his  bed,  but 
the  marvel  is  that  he  recollected  literally  noth- 
ing else  —  not  a  single  character  woven  by  the 
Romancer  —  not  one  of  the  many  scenes  and 
points  of  exquisite  humour,  nor  anything  with 
which  he  was  connected  as  writer  of  the  work. 
'For  a  long  time  I  felt  myself  very  uneasy.'  lie 
said,  '  in  the  course  of  my  reading,  always  kept 
on  the  qui  vive  lest  I  should  be  startled  by 
.something  altogether  glaring  and  fantastic  ; 
however,  I  recollected  that  the  printing  had 
been  performed  by  James  Ballantyne,  who  I 
was  sure  would  not  have  permitted  anything 
of  this  sort  to  pass. '  '  Well,'  I  said,  '  upon  the 
whole,  how  did  you  like  it?'  'Ob,'  he  said,  '  I 
felt  it  monstrous  gross  and  grotesque,  to  bo 
sure,  but  still  the  worst  of  it  made  me  laugh, 
and  I  trusted  therefore  the  good-naturcii  pub- 
lic would  not  be  loss  indulgent.'  I  do  not  think 
that  I  ever  ventured  to  lead  to  this  singular 
subject  again.  But  you  may  depend  upon  it. 
that  what  I  have  said  is  as  distinctly  reported 
as  if  it  had  been  taken  down  at  the  moment  in 
shorthand.  I  should  not  otherwise  have  im- 
parted the  phenomenon  at  all." — Mr.  Ballon- 
tyne's  MSS. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  269 

about  printing  some  verses  of  Mrs.  Hemans  in  honour  of  the  late 
Lord  James  Murray,  who  died  in  Greece.  Also  Lord  Gray,  who 
wishes  me  to  write  some  preliminary  matter  to  his  ancestor,  the  Mas- 
ter of  Gray's  correspondence.  I  promised.  But  ancestor  was  a  great 
rogue,  and  if  I  am  to  write  about  him  at  all,  I  must  take  my  will  of 
him.  Anne  and  I  dined  at  home.  She  went  to  the  play,  and  I  had 
some  mind  to  go  too.  But  Miss  Foote  was  the  sole  attraction,  and 
Miss  Foote  is  only  a  very  pretty  woman,  and  if  she  played  Rosalind 
better  than  I  think  she  can,  it  is  a  bore  to  see  Touchstone  and  Jacques 
murdered.  I  have  a  particular  respect  for  As  You  Like  It.  It  was 
the  first  play  I  ever  saw,  and  that  was  at  Bath  in  1776  or  1777.  That 
is  not  yesterday,  yet  I  remember  the  piece  very  well.  So  I  remained 
at  home,  smoked  a  cigar,  and  worked  leisurely  upon  the  review  of 
the  Cullodcn  Papers,  which,  by  dint  of  vamping  and  turning,  may 
make  up  the  lacking  copy  for  the  "  Works  "  better,  I  think,  than  that 
lumbering  Essay  on  Border  Antiquities. 

June  24. — I  don't  care  who  knows  it,  I  was  lazy  this  morning. 
But  I  cheated  my  laziness  capitally,  as  you  shall  hear.  My  good 
friend,  Sir  Watt,  said  I  to  my  esteemed  friend,  it  is  hard  you  should 
be  obliged  to  work  when  you  are  so  disinclined  to  it.  Were  I  you, 
I  would  not  be  quite  idle  though.  I  would  do  something  that  you 
are  not  obliged  to  do,  just  as  I  have  seen  a  cowardly  dog  willing  to 
fight  with  any  one  save  that  which  his  master  would  have  desired 
him  to  yoke  with.  So  I  went  over  the  review  of  the  Culloden  Papers, 
and  went  a  great  way  to  convert  it  into  the  Essay  on  Clanship,  etc., 
which  I  intend  for  the  Prose  WTorks.  I  wish  I  had  thought  of  it 
before  correcting  that  beastly  border  essay.  Naboclish  ! 

June  25. — Wrote  five  pages  of  the  Chronicles,  and  hope  to  con- 
quer one  or  two  more  ere  night  to  fetch  up  the  leeway.  Went  and 
saw  Allan's  sketch  of  a  picture  for  Abbotsford,  which  is  promising ; 
a  thing  on  the  plan  of  W»atteau.  He  intends  to  introduce  some  in- 
teresting characters,  and  some,  I  suspect,  who  have  little  business 
there.  Yesterday  I  dined  with  the  Lockharts  at  Portobello.1  To-day 
at  home  with  Anne  and  Miss  Erskine.  They  are  gone  to  walk.  I 
have  a  mind  to  go  to  trifle,  so  I  do  not  promise  to  write  more  to-night, 
having  begun  the  dedication  (advertisement  I  mean)  to  the  Chroni- 
cles. I  have  pleasant  subjects  of  reflection.  The  fund  in  Gibson's 
hands  will  approach  £40,000,  I  think. 

Lord  Melville  writes  desiring  to  be  a  candidate  for  the  Bannatyne 
Club. 

I  made  a  balance  of  my  affairs,  and  stuck  it  into  my  book :  it 
should  answer  very  well,  but  still 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  says: — "  My  wife  and  I  spent  day  he  came  down  and  dined  there,  and  stroll- 
the  summer  of  1827  partly  at  a  sea-bathing  ed  about  afterwards  on  the  beach,  thus  inter- 
place  near  Edinburgh,  and  partly  in  Roxburgh-  rupting,  beneficially  for  his  health,  and  I  doubt 
shire:  The  arrival  of  his  daughter  and  her  chil-  not  lor  the  result  of  his  labours  also,  the  new 
dren  at  Portobello  was  a  source  of  constant  re-  custom  of  regular  night-work,  or,  as  he  called 
freshment  to  him  during  June,  for  every  other  it,  serving  double  tides." 


270  JOURNAL  [.JUNE 

"I  am  not  given  to  great  misguiding, 
But  coin  my  pouches  will  na  bide  in, 
With  me  it  ne'er  was  under  hiding, 
I  dealt  it  free." 

I  must,  however,  and  will,  be  independent. 

June  26. — Well,  if  ever  I  saw  such  another  thing  since  my  mother 
bound  up  my  head !'  Here  is  nine  of  clock  strucken  and  I  am  still 
fast  asleep  abed.  I  have  not  done  the  like  of  this  many  a  day.  How- 
ever, it  cannot  be  helped.  Went  to  Court,  which  detained  me  till  two 
o'clock.  A  walk  home  consumed  the  hour  to  three  !  Wrote  in  the 
Court,  however,  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Lord  Bloomfield,  and 
that  is  a  good  job  over. 

I  have  a  letter  from  a  member  of  the  Commission  of  the  Psalmody 
of  the  Kirk,  zealous  and  pressing.  I  shall  answer  him,  I  think.8  One 
from  Sir  James  Stuart,8  on  fire  with  Corfe  Castle,  with  a  drawing  of 
King  Edward,  occupying  one  page,  as  he  hurries  down  the  steep, 
mortally  wounded  by  the  assassin.  Singular  power  of  speaking  at 
once  to  the  eye  and  the  ear.  Dined  at  home.  After  dinner  sorted 
papers.  Rather  idle. 

June  27. — Corrected  proofs  and  wrote  till  breakfast.  Then  the 
Court.  Called  on  Skene  and  Charles  K.  Sharpe,  and  did  not  get  home 
until  three  o'clock,  and  then  so  wet  as  to  require  a  total  change.  We 
dine  at  Hector  Buchanan  Macdonald's,  where  there  are  sometimes 
many  people  and  little  conversation.  Sent  a  little  chest  of  books  by 
the  carrier  to  Abbotsford. 

A  visit  from  a  smart  young  man,  Gustavus  Schwab  of  Konigs- 
berg ;  he  gives  a  flattering  picture  of  Prussia,  which  is  preparing  for 
freedom.  The  King  must  keep  his  word,  though,  or  the  people  may 
chance  to  tire  of  waiting.  Dined  at  H.  B.  Macdonald's  with  rather  a 
young  party  for  Colin  M'Kenzie  and  me. 

June  28. — Wrote  a  little  and  corrected  proofs.  How  many  things 
have  I  unfinished  at  present  ? 

Chronicles,  first  volume  not  ended, 
do.,      second  volume  begun. 

Introduction  to  ditto. 

Tales  of  My  Grandfather. 

Essay  on  Highlands.     This  unfinished,  owing  to  certain  causes, 

1  See  Swift,  "Mary  the  cook  to  Dr.  Sheri-  is  a  serious  loss  to  the  cause  of  devotion,  and 

dan."  scarce  to  be  incurred  without  the  certainty  of 

*  The  answer  is  printed  in  the  Scott  Cente-  corresponding  advantages.     But  if  these  recol- 

nary  Catalogue  by  David  Laing,  from  which  lections  are  valuable  to  persons  of  education, 

the  following  extracts  are  given: —  they  are  almost  indispensable  to  the  ediflca- 

"The  expression  of  the  old  metrical  transla-  tion  of  the  lower  ranks  whose  prejudices  do 
tion,  though  homely,  is  plain,  forcible,  and  in-  not  permit  them  to  consider  as  the  words  of 
telligible,  and  very  often  possesses  a  rude  sort  the  inspired  poetry,  the  versions  of  living  or 
of  majesty,  which  perhaps  would  be  ill -ex-  modern  poets,  but  persist,  however  absurdly,  in 
changed  for  mere  elegance."  "They  are  the  identifying  the  original  with  the  ancient  trans- 
very  words  and  accents  of  our  early  Reformers  lation." — j.  G.  L. 
—sung  by  them  in  woe  and  gratitude,  in  the 

fields,  in  the  churches,  and  on  the  scaffold."          *  Sir  James  Stuart,  the  last  baronet  of  Allan- 

"  The  parting  with  this  very  association  of  ideas  bank. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  271 

chiefly  want  of  papers  and  books  to  fill  up  blanks,  which  I  will  get  at 
Abbotsford.  Came  home  through  rain  about  two,  and  commissioned 
John  Stevenson  to  call  at  three  about  binding  some  books.  Dined 
with  Sophia ;  visited,  on  invitation,  a  fine  old  little  Commodore 
Trunnion,  who,  on  reading  a  part  of  Napoleon's  history,  with  which 
he  had  himself  been  interested,  as  commanding  a  flotilla,  thought 
he  had  detected  a  mistake,  but  was  luckily  mistaken,  to  my  great 
delight. 

"  I  fear  thee,  ancient  mariner." 

To  be  cross-examined  by  those  who  have  seen  the  true  thing  is  the 
devil.  And  yet  these  eye-witnesses  are  not  all  right  in  what  they  re- 
peat neither,  indeed  cannot  be  so,  since  you  will  have  dozens  of  con- 
tradictions in  their  statements. 

June  29. — A  distressing  letter  from  Haydon ;  imprudent,  prob- 
ably, but  who  is  not  ?  A  man  of  rare  genius.  What  a  pity  I  gave 
that  £10  to  Craig !  But  I  have  plenty  of  ten  pounds  sure,  and  I  may 
make  it  something.  I  will  get  £100  at  furthest  when  I  come  back 
from  the  country.  Wrote  at  proofs,  but  no  copy  ;  I  fear  I  shall  wax 
fat  and  kick  against  Madam  Duty,  but  I  augur  better  things. 

Just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  dinner,  Cadell  burst  in  in  high 
spirits  with  the  sale  of  Napoleon?  the  orders  for  which  pour  in,  and 
the  public  report  is  favourable.  Detected  two  gross  blunders  though, 
which  I  have  ordered  for  cancel.  Supped  (for  a  wonder)  with  Colin 
Mackenzie  and  a  bachelor  party.  Mr.  Williams5  was  there,  whose 
extensive  information,  learning,  and  lively  talent  makes  him  always 
pleasant  company.  Up  till  twelve — a  debauch  for  me  nowadays. 

June  30. — Redd  up  my  things  for  moving,8  which  will  clear  my 
hands  a  little  on  the  next  final  flitting.  Corrected  proof-sheets. 
Williams  told  me  an  English  bull  last  night.  A  fellow  of  a  college, 

1  ''The  Life  of  Bonaparte,  then,  was  at  last  afraid  I  should  be  unhappy  if  I  did  not  say  I 

published  about  the  middle  of  June,  1827."—  will — yet  (whisper  it,  dear  Sir  Walter)  the  name 

Life,  ix.  117.  of  Coutts— and  a  right  good  one  it  is— is,  and 

a  Archdeacon  Williams,  Rector  of  the  New  ever  will  be,  dear  to  ray  heart    What  a  strange, 

Edinburgh  Academy  from  1824  to  1847.  eventful  life  has  mine  been,  from  a  poor  little 

player  child,  with  just  food  and  clothes  to  cover 

s  Among  the  letters  which  Sir  Walter  found  me  dependent  on  a  very  precarious  profession, 
time  to  write  before  leaving  Edinburgh,  was  without  talent  or  a  friend  in  the  world!  'to 
one  to  congratulate  his  old  and  true  friend  Mrs.  have  seen  what  I  have  seen,  seeing  what  I  see.' 
Coutts  on  her  marriage,  which  took  place  on  js  jt  not  wonderful?  is  it  true?  can  I  believe 
the  16th  of  June.  That  letter  has  not  been  jt — flrst  the  wife  of  the  best,  the  most  perfect, 
preserved,  but  it  drew  from  her  Grace  the  fol-  being  that  ever  breathed,  his  love  and  unbound- 
lowing  reply: —  ed  confidence  in  me,  his  immense  fortune  so 

"Mv  DEAR  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,— Your  most  honourably  acquired  by  his  own  industry,  all 
welcome  letter  has  '  wandered  mony  a  weary  at  my  command,  .  .  .  and  now  the  wife  of  a 
mile  after  me.'  Thanks,  many  thanks  for  all  Duke.  You  must  write  my  life;  the  History 
your  kind  congratulations.  I  am  a  Duchess  at  of  Tom  Thumb,  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  and 
last,  that  is  certain,  but  whether  I  am  the  bet-  Goody  Two  Shoes,  will  sink  compared  with  my 
ter  for  it  remains  to  be  proved.  The  Duke  is  true  history  written  by  the  Author  of  Waver- 
very  amiable,  gentle,  and  well  disposed,  and  I  ley  ;  and  that  you  may  do  it  well  I  have  sent 
am  sure  he  has  taken  pains  enough  to  accom-  you  an  inkstand.  Pray,  give  it  a  place  on  your 
plish  what  he  says  has  been  the  first  wish  of  table  in  kind  remembrance  of  your  affectionate 
bis  he.art  for  the  last  three  years.  All  this  is  friend,  HARRIETT  ST.  ALBANS. 
very  flattering  to  an  old  lady,  and  we  lived  so  «STRATTON  STREIT, 
long  in  friendship  with  each  other  that  I  was  July  1«A,  1827." 


272  JOURNAL  [JUNE,  1827. 

deeply  learned,  sitting  at  a  public  entertainment  beside  a  foreigner, 
tried  every  means  to  enter  into  conversation,  but  the  stranger  could 
speak  no  dead  language,  the  Doctor  no  living  one  but  his  own.  At 
last  the  scholar,  in  great  extremity,  was  enlightened  by  a  happy 
"  Nonne potes  loqui  cum  digitis?" — said  as  if  the  difficulty  was  solved 
at  once. 

Abbotsford. — Reached  this  about  six  o'clock.1 

1  Next  morning  the  following  pleasant  little  (6000  copies)  is  sold  for  £11,000.— Yours  truly, 
billet  was  despatched  to  Kaeside : —  "Sunday.  W.  S.  " 

"My  dear  Mr.  Laidlaw,  I  would  be  happy  if  —  Abbotsford  Notanda,  by  K.  Carruthers,  Edin. 

you  would  come  at  kail-time  to-day.  Napoleon  1871. 


JULY 

July  1,  [Abbotsford], —  A  most  delicious  day,  in  the  course  of 
which  I  have  not  done 

"The  least  right  thing." 

Before  breakfast  I  employed  myself  in  airing  my  old  bibliomaniacal 
hobby,  entering  all  the  books  lately  acquired  into  a  temporary  cata- 
logue, so  as  to  have  them  shelved  and  marked.  After  breakfast  I 
went  out,  the  day  being  delightful — warm,  yet  cooled  with  a  gentle 
breeze,  all  around  delicious;  the  rich  luxuriant  green  refreshing  to 
the  eye,  soft  to  the  tread,  and  perfume  to  the  smell.  Wandered 
about  and  looked  at  my  plantations.  Came  home,  and  received  a 
visit  from  Sir  Adam.  Loitered  in  the  library  till  dinner-time.  If 
there  is  anything  to  be  done  at  all  to-day,  it  must  be  in  the  evening. 
But  I  fear  there  will  be  nothing.  One  can't  work  always  nowther. 

"  Neque  semper  arcum  tendit  Apollo.'1'1 

There's  warrant  for  it. 

July  2.' — Wrote  in  the  morning,  correcting  the  Essay  on  the  High- 
lands, which  is  now  nearly  completed.     Settled  accounts  with  Tom 
and  Bogie.     Went  over  to  Huntly  Burn  at  two  o'clock,  and  recon- " 
noitred  the  proposed  plantation  to  be  called  Jane's  Wood.     Dined 
with  the  Fergusons. 

July  3. — Worked  in  the  morning  upon  the  Introduction  to  the 
Chronicles ;  it  may  be  thought  egotistical.  Learned  a  bad  accident 
had  happened  yesterday.  A  tinker  (drunk  I  suppose)  entered  the 
stream  opposite  to  Faldonside  with  an  ass  bearing  his  children.  The 
ass  was  carried  down  by  the  force  of  the  stream,  and  one  of  the  little 
creatures  was  drowned ;  the  other  was  brought  out  alive,  poor  inno- 
cent, clinging  to  the  ass.  It  had  floated  as  far  down  as  Deadwater- 
heugh.  Poor  thing,  it  is  as  well  dead  as  to  live  a  tinker  !  The  Fer- 
gusons dine  with  us  en  masse ;  also  Dr.  Brewster. 

July  4,  [Edinburgh]. — Worked  a  little  in  the  morning,  and  took 
a  walk  after  breakfast,  the  day  so  delicious  as  makes  it  heart-breaking 
to  leave  the  country.  Set  out,  however,  about  four  o'clock,  and 
reached  Edinburgh  a  little  after  nine.  Slept  part  of  the  way  ;  read 
De  Vere  the  rest.1  It  is  well  written,  in  point  of  language  and  senti- 

1  Written  by  R.  Plnmer  Ward,  author  of      lished  in  1850,  in  two  vols.  8vo,  edited  by  Hon. 
Tremaine  and  other  works.     Mr.  Ward's  Polit-      E.  Phipps. 
ical  Life,  including  a  Diary  to  1820,  was  pub- 

18 


274  JOURNAL  [JULY 

ment,  but  has  too  little  action  in  it  to  be  termed  a  pleasing  novel. 
Everything  is  brought  out  by  dialogue — or  worse :  through  the  me- 
dium of  the  author's  reflections,  which  is  the  clumsiest  of  all  expe- 
dients. 

July  5. — This  morning  worked,  and  sent  off  to  J.  B.  the  Introduc- 
tion to  the  Chronicles,  containing  my  Confessions,1  and  did  some- 
thing, but  not  fluently,  to  the  Confessions  themselves.  Not  happy, 
however ;  the  black  dog  worries  me.  Bile,  I  suppose.  "  But  I  will 
rally  and  combat  the  reiver."  Reiver  it  is,  that  wretched  malady  of 
the  mind ;  got  quite  well  in  the  forenoon.  Went  out  to  Portobello 
after  dinner,  and  chatted  with  little  Johnnie,  and  told  him  the  his- 
tory of  the  Field  of  Prestonpans.  Few  remain  who  care  about  these 
stories. 

July  6. — This  morning  wrought  a  good  deal,  but  scarce  a  task. 
The  Court  lasted  till  half-past  three ;  exhausting  work  in  this  hot 
weather.  I  returned  to  dine  alone,  Anne  going  to  Roslin  with  a 
party.  After  noon  a  Miss  Bell  broke  in  upon  me,  who  bothered  me 
some  time  since  about  a  book  of  hers,  explaining  and  exposing  the 
conduct  of  a  Methodist  Tartuffe,  who  had  broken  off  (by  anonymous 
letters)  a  match  betwixt  her  and  an  accepted  admirer.  Tried  in  vain 
to  make  her  comprehend  how  little  the  Edinburgh  people  would  care 
about  her  wrongs,  since  there  was  no  knowledge  of  the  parties  to  make 
the  scandal  acceptable.  I  believe  she  has  suffered  great  wrong."  Let- 
ter from  Longman  and  Co.  to  J.  B.  grumbling  about  bringing  out  the 
second  edition,  because  they  have,  forsooth,  700  copies  in  hand  out 
of  5000,  five  days  after  the  first  edition*  is  out.  What  would  they 
have  ?  It  is  uncomfortable,  though. 

July  7. — Night  dreadfully  warm,  and  bilious ;  I  could  not  be  fool 
enough  surely  to  be  anxious  for  these  wise  men  of  the  East's  prog- 
nostication. Letters  from  Lockhart  give  a  very  cheerful  prospect; 
if  there  had  been  any  thundering  upsetting  broadside,  he  would  have 
noticed  it  surely  more  or  less.  R.  Cadell  quite  stout,  and  determined 
to  go  on  with  the  second  edition.  Well,  I  hope  all's  right — think- 
ing won't  help  it.  Charles  came  down  this  morning  penniless,  poor 
fellow,  but  we  will  soon  remedy  that.  Lockhart  remits  £100  for 
reviewing ;  I  hope  the  next  will  be  for  Sophia,  for  cash  affairs  loom 
well  in  the  offing,  and  if  the  trust  funds  go  right,  I  was  never  so  easy. 
I  will  take  care  how  I  get  into  debt  again.  I  do  not  like  this  croak- 
ing of  these  old  owls  of  Saint  Paul's  when  all  is  done.  The  pitcher 
has  gone  often  to  the  well.  But —  However,  I  worked  away  at  the 
Chronicles.  I  will  take  pains  with  them.  I  will,  by  Jove ! 

July  8. — I  did  little  to-day  but  arrange  papers,  and  put  bills,  re- 
ceipts, etc.,  into  apple-pie  order.  I  believe  the  fair  prospect  I  have 
of  clearing  off  some  encumbrances,  which  are  like  thorns  in  my  flesh, 
nay,  in  my  very  eye,  contribute  much  to  this.  I  did  not  even  cor- 

1  See  jmst,  p  313,  314  note.  »  Napoleon. 

*  See  ante,  pp.  64,  C5, 


1827.]  JOURNAL  275 

rect  proof  -  sheets ;  nay,  could  not,  for  I  have  cancelled  two  sheets, 
instante  Jacobo,  and  I  myself  being  of  his  opinion ;  for,  as  I  said 
yesterday,  we  must  and  will  take  pains.  The  fiddle-faddle  of  ar- 
ranging all  the  things  was  troublesome,  but  they  give  a  good  account 
of  my  affairs.  The  money  for  the  necessary  payments  is  ready,  and 
therefore  there  is  a  sort  of  pleasure  which  does  not  arise  out  of  any 
mean  source,  since  it  has  for  its  object  the  prospect  of  doing  justice 
and  achieving  independence.  J.  B.  dined  with  me,  poor  fellow,  and 
talked  of  his  views  as  hopeful  and  prosperous.  God  send  honest  in- 
dustry a  fair  riddance. 

July  9. — Wrote  in  the  morning.  At  eleven  went  by  appoint- 
ment with  Colin  Mackenzie  to  the  New  Edinburgh  Academy.  In 
the  fifth  class,  Mr.  Mitchell's,  we  heard  Greek,  of  which  I  am  no  oth- 
erwise a  judge  than  that  it  was  fluently  read  and  explained.  In  the 
rector  Mr.  Williams's  class  we  heard  Virgil  and  Livy  admirably  trans- 
lated ad  aperturam  libri,  and,  what  I  thought  remarkable,  the  rector 
giving  the  English,  and  the  pupils  returning,  with  singular  dexterity, 
the  Latin,  not  exactly  as  in  the  original,  but  often  by  synonymes, 
which  showed  that  the  exercise  referred  to  the  judgment,  and  did  not 
depend  on  the  memory.  I  could  not  help  saying,  with  great  truth, 
that,  as  we  had  all  long  known  how  much  the  pupils  were  fortunate 
in  a  rector,  so  we  were  now  taught  that  the  rector  was  equally  lucky 
in  his  pupils.  Of  my  young  friends,  I  saw  a  son  of  John  Swinton,  a 
son  of  Johnstone  of  Alva,  and  a  son  of  Craufurd  Tait.1  Dined  at 
John  Murray's ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Philips,  of  Liverpool,  General  and 
Charles  Stuart  of  Blantyre,  Lord  Abercromby,  Clerk  and  Thomson. 
Pleasant  evening. 

July  10. — Corrected  proofs,  but  wrote  nothing.  To  Court  till 
two  o'clock.  I  went  to  Cadell's  by  the  Mound,  a  long  roundabout ; 
transacted  some  business.  I  met  Baron  Hume  coming  home,  and 
walked  with  him  in  the  Gardens.  His  remarkable  account  of  his 
celebrated  uncle's  last  moments  is  in  these  words : — Dr.  Black  called 
on  Mr.  D.  Hume*  on  the  morning  on  which  he  died.  The  patient 
complained  of  having  suffered  a  great  deal  during  the  night,  and  ex- 
pressed a  fear  that  his  struggle  might  be  prolonged,  to  his  great  dis- 
tress, for  days  or  weeks  longer.  "  No,  sir,"  said  Dr.  Black,  with  the 
remarkable  calmness  and  sincerity  which  characterized  him,  "  I  have 
examined  the  symptoms,  and  observe  several  which  oblige  me  to  con- 
clude that  dissolution  is  rapidly  approaching."  "Are  you  certain 
of  that,  Doctor  ?"  "  Most  assuredly  so,"  answered  the  physician. 
The  dying  philosopher  extended  his  arm,  and  shook  hands  with  his 
medical  friend.  "  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  for  the  news."  So  little 
reason  there  was  for  the  reports  of  his  having  been  troubled  in  mind 
when  on  his  deathbed. 

Dined  at  Lord  Abercromby's,  to  meet  Lord  Melville  in  private. 

1  Archibald  Campbell  Tait,  afterwards  Arch-          5  David  Hume,  the  historian,  died  August  25, 
bishop  of  Canterbury.  1776. 


276  JOURNAL  [JULY 

We  had  an  interview  betwixt  dinner  and  tea.  I  was  sorry  to  see  my 
very  old  friend,  this  upright  statesman  and  honourable  gentleman, 
deprived  of  his  power  and  his  official  income,  which  the  number  of 
his  family  must  render  a  matter  of  importance.  He  was  cheerful, 
not  affectedly  so,  and  bore  his  declension  like  a  wise  and  brave  man. 
I  had  nursed  the  idea  that  he  had  been  hasty  in  his  resignation ;  but, 
from  the  letters  which  he  showed  me  confidentially,  which  passed  be- 
twixt him  and  Canning,  it  is  clear  his  resignation  was  to  be  accom- 
plished, not  I  suppose  for  personal  considerations,  but  because  it 
rendered  the  Admiralty  vacant  for  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  as  his  resig- 
nation was  eagerly  snapped  at.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  if  he  had 
hesitated  or  hung  back  behind  his  friends,  forcible  means  would  have 
been  used  to  compel  to  the  measure,  which  with  more  dignity  he 
took  of  his  own  accord — at  least  so  it  seemed  to  me.  The  first  in- 
timation which  Lord  Melville  received  of  his  successor  was  through 

Mr. ,  who  told  him,  as  great  news,  that  there  was  to  be  a  new 

Duke  of  York.1  Lord  M.  understood  the  allusion  so  little,  as  to  in- 
quire whether  his  informant  meant  that  the  Duke  of  Cambridge  had 
taken  the  Duke  of  York's  situation,  when  it  was  explained  to  refer  to 
the  Duke  of  Clarence  getting  the  Admiralty.  There  are  some  few 
words  that  speak  volumes.  Lord  Melville  said  that  none  of  them  sus- 
pected Canning's  negotiations  with  the  Whigs  but  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, who  found  it  out  through  the  ladies  ten  days  before.  I  asked 
him  how  they  came  to  be  so  unprepared,  and  could  not  help  saying 
I  thought  they  had  acted  without  consideration,  and  that  they  might 
have  shown  a  face  even  to  Canning.  He  allowed  the  truth  of  what  I 
said,  and  seemed  to  blame  Peel's  want  of  courage.  In  his  place,  he 
said,  he.  would  have  proposed  to  form  a  government  disclaiming  any 
personal  views  for  himself  as  being  Premier  and  the  like,  but  upon 
the  principle  of  supporting  the  measures  of  Lord  Castlereagh  and 
Lord  Liverpool.  I  think  this  would  have  been  acceptable  to  the 
King.  Mr.  Peel  obviously  feared  his  great  antagonist  Canning,  and 
perhaps  threw  the  game  up  too  soon.  Canning  said  the  office  of 
Premier  was  his  inheritance ;  he  could  not,  from  constitution,  hold  it 
above  two  years,  and  then  it  would  descend  to  Peel.  Such  is  ambi- 
tion !  Old  friends  forsaken — old  principles  changed — every  effort 
used  to  give  the  vessel  of  the  State  a  new  direction,  and  all  to  be 
Palinurus  for  two  years  ! 

July  11,  [Abbotsford\. — Worked  at  proofs  in  the  morning;  com- 
posed nothing.  Got  off  by  one,  and  to  this  place  between  six  and 
seven.  Weather  delicious. 


1  To  please  the  king,  Canning  appointed  the  Croker's  Correspondence,  vol.  i.  pp.  264  (letter 

Puke  of  Clarence  as  first  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  to  Blorafield),  427,  429;  also  ante,  p.  171.    Lord 

but  Greville  says  it  was  a  most  judicious  stroke  Melville  was  President  of  the  India  Board  in 

of  policy,  and  nothing  served  so  much  to  dis-  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  administration  in!828, 

concert  his  opponents.     Lord  Melville  had  held  and  again  First  Lord  from  Sept.  17  of  the  same 

the  office  from  March  25. 1812,  to  April  13, 1827.  year  until  Nov.  22,  1830, 
The  Duke  resigned  in  the  following  year.— See 


1827.]  JOURNAL  277 

July  12. — Unpacking  and  arranging;  the  urchins  are  stealing  the 
cherries  in  the  outer  garden.  But  I  can  spare  a  thousand  larch-trees 
to  put  it  in  order  with  a  good  fence  for  next  year.  It  is  not  right  to 
leave  fruit  exposed ;  for  if  Adam  in  the  days  of  innocence  fell  by  an 
apple,  how  much  may  the  little  gossoon  Jamie  Moffatt  be  tempted  by 
apples  of  gold  in  an  age  of  iron !  Anne  and  I  walked  to  Huntly 
Burn — a  delicious  excursion.  That  place  is  really  become  beautiful ; 
the  Miss  Fergusons  have  displayed  a  great  deal  of  taste. 

July  13. — Two  agreeable  persons — Rev.  Mr.  Gilly,1  one  of  the 
prebendaries  of  Durham,  with  his  wife,  a  pretty  little  woman — dined 
with  us,  and  met  Mr.  Scrope.  I  heard  the  whole  history  of  the  dis- 
covery of  St.  CuthbertV  body  at  Durham  Cathedral.  The  Catholics 
will  deny  the  identity,  of  course ;  but  I  think  it  is  constate  by  the 
dress  and  other  circumstances.  Made  a  pleasant  day  of  it,  and  with 
a  good  conscience,  for  I  had  done  my  task  this  morning. 

July  14. — Did  task  this  morning,  and  believe  that  I  shall  get  on 
now  very  well.  Wrote  about  five  leaves.  I  have  been  baking  and 
fevering  myself  like  a  fool  for  these  two  years  in  a  room  exposed  to 
the  south ;  comfortable  in  winter,  but  broiling  in  the  hot  weather. 
Now  I  have  removed  myself  into  the  large  cool  library,  one  of  the 
most  refreshing  as  well  as  handsomest  rooms  in  Scotland,  and  will 
not  use  the  study  again  till  the  heats  are  past.  Here  is  an  entry  as 
solemn  as  if  it  respected  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield's  removal  from  the 
yellow  room  to  the  brown.  But  I  think  my  labours  will  advance 
greatly  in  consequence  of  this  arrangement.  Walked  in  the  evening 
to  the  lake. 

July  15. — Achieved  six  pages  to-day,  and  finished  volume  i.  of 
Chronicles.  It  is  rather  long ;  but  I  think  the  last  story  interesting, 
and  it  should  not  be  split  up  into  parts.  J.  B.  will,  I  fear,  think  it 
low  ;  and  if  he  thinks  so,  others  will.  Yet — vamos.  Drove  to  Hunt- 
ly Burn  in  the  evening. 

July  16. — Made  a  good  morning's  work  of  the  Tales.  In  the 
day-time  corrected  various  proofs.  J.  B.  thinks  that  in  the  proposed 
introduction  I  contemn  too  much  the  occupation  by  which  I  have 
thriven  so  well,  and  hints  that  I  may  easily  lead  other  people  to  fol- 
low my  opinion  in  vilipending  my  talents,  and  the  use  I  have  made 
of  them.  I  cannot  tell.  I  do  not  like,  on  the  one  hand,  to  suppress 
my  own  opinion  of  the  flocci-pauci-nihili-pilification  with  which  I  re- 
gard these  things ;  but  yet,  in  duty  to  others,  I  cannot  afford  to  break 
my  own  bow,  or  befoul  my  own  nest,  and  there  may  be  something 
like  affectation  and  nolo  episcopari  in  seeming  to  underrate  my  own 
labours ;  so,  all  things  considered,  I  will  erase  the  passage.  Truth 
should  not  be  spoke  at  all  times.  In  the  evening  we  had  a  delightful 
drive  to  Ashestiel  with  Colonel  and  Miss  Ferguson. 

i  The  Rev. William  Stephen  Gilly,  D.D., Vicar      searches  among  the  Vaudois  or  Waldenses,  1827- 
of  Norham,  author  of  Narrative  of  an  Excur-      31. 
stem  to  the  Mountains  of  Piemont,  1823;  Re-         2  See  Raine'sM.  Cuthbert,  4to,  Durham,  1828. 


278  JOURNAL  [JULY 

July  17. — I  wrote  a  laborious  task ;  seven  pages  of  Tales.  Kept 
about  the  doors  all  day.  .Gave  Bogie  £10  to  buy  cattle  to-morrow 
at  St.  Boswell's  Fair.  Here  is  a  whimsical  subject  of  affliction.  Mr. 
Harper,  a  settler,  who  went  from  this  country  to  Botany  Bay,  think- 
ing himself  obliged  to  me  for  a  recommendation  to  General  M'Allis- 
ter  and  Sir  Thomas  Brisbane,  has  thought  proper  to  bring  me  home  a 
couple  of  Emus.  I  wish  his  gratitude  had  either  taken  a  different  turn, 
or  remained  as  quiescent  as  that  of  others  whom  I  have  obliged  more 
materially.  I  at  first  accepted  the  creatures,  conceiving  them,  in  my 
ignorance,  to  be  some  sort  of  blue  and  green  parrot,  which,  though  I 
do  not  admire  their  noise,  might  scream  and  yell  at  their  pleasure  if 
hung  up  in  the  hall  among  the  armour.  But  your  emu,  it  seems, 
stands  six  feet  high  on  his  stocking  soles,  and  is  little  better  than  a 
kind  of  cassowary  or  ostrich.  Hang  them  !  they  might  [eat]  up  my 
collection  of  old  arms  for  what  I  know.  It  reminds  me  of  the  story 
of  the  adjutant  birds  in  Theodore  Hook's  novel.1  No ;  I'll  no 
Emuses ! 

July  18. — Entered  this  morning  on  the  history  of  Sir  William 
Wallace.  I  wish  I  may  be  able  to  find  my  way  between  what  the 
child  can  comprehend  and  what  shall  not  yet  be  absolutely  unin- 
teresting to  the  grown  readers.  Uncommon  facts  I  should  think  the 
best  receipt.  Learn  that  Mr.  Owen  Kees  and  John  Gibson  have  ami- 
cably settled  their  differences  about  the  last  edition  of  Napoleon, 
the  Trustees  allowing  the  publishers  nine  months'  credit.  My  nerves 
have  for  these  two  or  three  last  days  been  susceptible  of  an  acute  ex- 
citement from  the  slightest  causes ;  the  beauty  of  the  evening,  the 
sighing  of  the  summer  breeze,  brings  the  tears  into  my  eyes  not  un- 
pleasingly.  But  I  must  take  exercise,  and  caseharden  myself.  There 
is  no  use  in  encouraging  these  moods  of  the  mind.  It  is  not  the 
law  we  live  on. 

We  had  a  little  party  with  some  luncheon  at  the  lake,  where  Mr. 
Bainbridge  fished  without  much  success.  Captain  Hamilton  and  two 
Messrs.  Stirling,  relatives  of  my  old  friend  Keir,  were  there,  and  walk- 
ed with  me  a  long  round  home.  I  walked  better  than  I  had  done  for 
some  days.  Mr.  Scrope  dined  with  us ;  he  was  complaining  of  gout, 
which  is  a  bad  companion  for  the  stag-shooting. 

July  19. — I  made  out  my  task  this  forenoon,  and  a  good  deal 
more.  Sent  five  or  six  pages  to  James  Ballantyne,  i.e.  got  them 
ready,  and  wrote  till  the  afternoon,  then  I  drove  over  to  Huntly  Burn, 
and  walked  through  the  glens  till  dinner-time.  After  dinner  read  and 
worked  till  bed-time.  Yet  I  have  written  well,  walked  well,  talked 
well,  and  have  nothing  to  regret. 

July  20. — Despatched  my  letters  to  J.  B.,  with  supply  of  copy,  and 
made  up  more  than  my  task — about  four  leaves,  I  think.  Offered  my 
Emuses  to  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch.  I  had  an  appointment  with  Cap- 

1  S«e  Danvtn  in  First  S«rle»  otSayingi  and  Doingi. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  279 

tain  Hamilton  and  his  friends  the  Stirlings,  that  they  were  to  go  up 
Yarrow  to-day.  But  the  weather  seems  to  say  no. 

My  visitors  came,  however,  and  we  went  up  to  Newark.  Here  is 
a  little  misfortune,  for  Spice  left  me,  and  we  could  not  find  her.  As 
we  had  no  servant  with  us  on  horseback,  I  was  compelled  to  leave 
her  to  her  fate,  resolving  to  send  in  quest  of  her  to-morrow  morning. 
The  keepers  are  my  bonos  socios,  as  the  host  says  in  the  Devil  of  Ed- 
monton,1 and  would  as  soon  shoot  a  child  as  a  dog  of  mine.  But  there 
are  scamps  and  traps,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  say  how  reluctantly  I  left 
the  poor  little  terrier  to  its  fate. 

She  came  home  to  me,  however,  about  an  hour  and  a  half  after 
we  were  home,  to  my  great  delectation.  Our  visitors  dined  with  us. 

July  21. — This  morning  wrote  five  pages  of  children's  history. 
Went  to  Minto,  where  we  met,  besides  Lord  M.  and  his  delightful 
countess,  Thomas  Thomson,  Kennedy  of  Dunure,8  Lord  Carnarvon,  and 
his  younger  son  and  daughter-in-law ;  the  dowager  Lady  Minto  also, 
whom  I  always  delight  to  see,  she  is  so  full  of  spirit  and  intelligence. 
We  rubbed  up  some  recollections  of  twenty  years  ago,  when  I  was 
more  intimate  with  the  family  till  Whig  and  Tory  separated  us  for 
a  time.  By  the  way,  nobody  talks  Whig  or  Tory  just  now ;  and  the 
fighting  men  on  each  side  go  about  muzzled  and  mute  like  dogs  after 
a  proclamation  about  canine  madness.  Am  I  sorry  for  this  truce  or 
not  ?  Half  and  half.  It  is  all  we  have  left  to  stir  the  blood,  this  lit- 
tle political  brawling ;  but  better  too  little  of  it  than  too  much. 

July  22,  [AbbotsforcQ. — Rose  a  little  later  than  usual,  and  wrote  a 
letter  to  Mrs.  Joanna  Baillie.  She  is  writing  a  tragedy*  on  witch- 
craft. I  shall  be  curious  to  see  it.  Will  it  be  real  witchcraft — the 
ipsissimus  diabolus — or  an  impostor,  or  the  half-crazed  being  who  be- 
lieves herself  an  ally  of  condemned  spirits,  and  desires  to  be  so  ? 
That  last  is  a  sublime  subject.  We  set  out  after  breakfast,  and 
reached  this  about  two.  I  walked  from  two  till  four ;  chatted  a  long 
time  with  Charles  after  dinner,  and  thus  went  my  day  sine  linea.  But 
we  will  make  it  up.  James  Ballantyne  dislikes  my  "  Drovers."  But 
it  shall  stand.  I  must  have  my  own  way  sometimes. 

I  received  news  of  two  deaths  at  once :  Lady  Die  Scott,  my  very 
old  friend,  and  Archibald  Constable,  the  bookseller. 

July  23. — Yes !  they  are  both  for  very  different  reasons  subjects 
of  reflection.  Lady  Diana  Scott,  widow  of  Walter  Scott  of  Harden, 
was  the  last  person  whom  I  recollect  so  much  older  than  myself,  that 
she  kept  always  at  the  same  distance  in  point  of  years,  so  that  she 
scarce  seemed  older  to  me  (relatively)  two  years  ago,  when  in  her 
ninety-second  year,  than  fifty  years  before.  She  was  the  daughter 

'  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton,  a  play  by      for  Ayr  Burghs,  1818-34.     Died  at  the  age  ol 
"T.  B.,"  which  has  also  been  attributed  to      ninety  at  Dalquharran  in  1879. 
Anthony  Brewer.  '  This  powerful  drama,  entitled  Witchcraft : 

a.  Tragedy  in  Prose,  was  suggested,  as  the  au- 
thor says  in  her  preface,  by  reading  a  scene  in 
8  Right  Hon.  Thomas  Francis  Kennedy,  M. P.      The  Bride  of  Lammermoor. 


280  JOURNAL  [JULY 

(alone  remaining)  of  Pope's  Earl  of  Marchmont,  and,  like  her  father, 
had  an  acute  mind  and  an  eager  temper.  She  was  always  kind  to 
me,  remarkably  so  indeed  when  I  was  a  boy. 

Constable's  death  might  have  been  a  most  important  thing  to  me 
if  it  had  happened  some  years  ago,  and  I  should  then  have  lamented 
it  much.  He  has  lived  to  do  me  some  injury ;  yet,  excepting  the 
last  £5000, 1  think  most  unintentionally.  He  was  a  prince  of  book- 
sellers; his  views  sharp,  powerful,  and  liberal ;  too  sanguine,  however, 
and,  like  many  bold  and  successful  schemers,  never  knowing  when  to 
stand  or  stop,  and  not  always  calculating  his  means  to  his  objects 
with  mercantile  accuracy.  He  was  very  vain,  for  which  he  had  some 
reason,  having  raised  himself  to  great  commercial  eminence,  as  he 
might  also  have  attained  great  wealth  with  good  management.  He 
knew,  I  think,  more  of  the  business  of  a  bookseller  in  planning  and 
executing  popular  works  than  any  man  of  his  time.  In  books  them- 
selves he  had  much  bibliographical  information,  but  none  whatever 
that  could  be  termed  literary.  He  knew  the  rare  volumes  of  his 
library  not  only  by  the  eye,  but  by  the  touch,  when  blindfolded. 
Thomas  Thomson  saw  him  make  this  experiment,  and,  that  it  might 
be  complete,  placed  in  his  hand  an  ordinary  volume  instead  of  one 
of  these  libri  rariores.  He  said  he  had  over-estimated  his  memory  ; 
lie  could  not  recollect  that  volume.  Constable  was  a  violent-tempered 
man  with  those  that  he  dared  use  freedom  with.  He  was  easily  over- 
awed by  people  of  consequence,  but,  as  usual,  took  it  out  of  those 
whom  poverty  made  subservient  to  him.  Yet  he  was  generous,  and 
far  from  bad-hearted.  In  person  good-looking,  but  very  corpulent 
latterly ;  a  large  feeder,  and  deep  drinker,  till  his  health  became 
weak.  He  died  of  water  in  the  chest,  which  the  natural  strength  of 
his  constitution  set  long  at  defiance.  I  have  no  great  reason  to  re- 
gret him;  yet  I  do.  If  he  deceived  me, he  also  deceived  himself.1 

>  Did  Constable  ruin  Scott,  as  had  been  gen-  On  reading  the  third  volume  of"Constable's 
erally  supposed?  It  is  right  to  say  that  such  Memoirs  (3  vols.  8vo,  1873),  one  cannot  fail  to 
a  charge  was  not  made  during  the  lifetime  of  see  that  all  the  three  parties — printer,  publish- 
either.  Immediately  after  Scott's  death  Miss  er,  and  author — were  equal  sharers  in  the  im- 
Edgeworth  wrote  to  Sir  James  Gibson-Craig  prudences  that  led  to  the  disaster  in  1826. 
and  asked  him  for  authentic  information  as  to  Whether  Mr.  Constable  was  right  in  recom- 
Sir  Walter's  connection  with  Constable.  Sir  mending  further  advances  to  the  London  house 
James  in  reply  stated  that  to  his  personal  is  doubtful;  but  if  it  was  an  error  of  judgment, 
knowledge  Mr.  Constable  had,  in  his  anxiety  to  it  was  one  which  appears  to  have  been  shared 
save  Scott,  about  1814  [1813],  commenced  a  sys-  by  Mr.  Cadell  and  Mr.  James  Ballautyne.  It 
tern  of  accommodation  bills  which  could  not  must  be  admitted  that  the  three  firms  were 
fail  to  produce,  and  actually  did  produce,  the  equally  culpable  in  maintaining  for  so  many 
ruin  of  both  parties.  To  another  correspond-  years  a  system  of  fictitious  credit.  Constable, 
ent,  some  years  later,  he  wrote  still  more  strong-  at  least,  from  a  letter  to  Scott,  printed  in  vol. 
ly  (Memoirs,  vol.  iii.  p.  457).  iii.  p.  274,  had  become  seriously  alarmed  as 

Scott  appears  to  have  been  aware  of  the  facts  early  as  August  8, 1823. 

so  far,  as  he  says  to  Laidlaw,  in  a  letter  of  De-  That  Constable  was  correct  in  his  estimate 

cember  16,  1825,  "The  confusion  of  1814  is  a  of  the  value  of  the  literary  property  has  been 

joke  to  this  .  .  .  but  it  arises  out  of  the  nature  shown  by  the  large  sums  realised  from  the  sale 

of  the  same  connection  which  gives,  and  has  of  Scott's  works  since  1829;  and  that  his  was 

given,  me  a  fortune;"  and  Mr.  Lockhart  says  the  brain  ("the  pendulum  of  the  clock"  as 

that  the  firm  of  J.  B.  &  Co.  "had  more  than  Scott  termed  it)  to  plan  is  also  shown  by  the 

once  owed  its  escape  from  utter  ruin  and  dis-  fact  that  the  so-called  "favourite"  edition,  the 

honour ' '  through  Constable's  exertions.  —Life,  magnum  opus,  appears  to  have  been  Constable's 

vol.  v.  p.  150.  idea  (Memoirs,  vol.  iii.  p.  255),  although,  accord- 


1827.]  JOURNAL  281 

Wrote  five  pages  to-day,  and  went  to  see  Mr.  Scrope,  who  is  fast 
with  the  gout — a  bad  companion  to  attend  him 

"to  Athole  Braes, 

To  shoot  the  dun  deer  down,  down — 
To  shoot  the  dun  deer  down." 

July  24. — Finished  five  pages  before  eleven  o'clock,  at  which 
time  Mr.  Deputy  Register1  arrived  from  Minto,  and  we  had  an  agree- 
able afternoon,  talking  about  the  old  days  we  have  had  together.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  that  Thomson  knew  as  little  as  I  do  myself  how 
to  advise  Charles  to  a  good  course  of  Scottish  History.  Hailes  and 
Pinkerton,  Robertson  and  Laing — there  is  nothing  else  for  it — and 
Pinkerton  is  poor  work.  Laing,  besides  his  party  spirit,  lias  a  turn 
for  generalising,  which  renders  him  rather  dull,  which  was  not  the 
nature  of  the  acute  Orcadian. 

July  25. — Thomson  left  us  this  morning  early.  I  finished  four 
pages,  and  part  of  a  fifth,  then  drove  to  Huntly  Burn  and  returned 
through  the  Glen ;  I  certainly  turn  heavy-footed,  not  in  the  female 
sense,  however.  I  had  one  or  two  falls  among  the  slippy  heather, 
not  having  Tom  Purdie  to  give  me  his  arm.  I  suppose  I  shall  need 
a  go-cart  one  of  these  days ;  and  if  it  must  be  so — so  let  it  be.  Fiat 
voluntas  tua. 

A  letter  from  John  Gibson  in  the  evening  brought  me  word  that 
Lord  Newton  had  adjudged  the  profits  of  Woodstock  and  Napoleon 
to  be  my  own.  This  is  a  great  matter,  and  removes  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  my  dispute  with  Constable's  creditors.  I  waked  in 
the  middle  of  the  night.  Sure  I  am  not  such  a  feather-headed  gull 
as  not  to  be  able  to  sleep  for  good  news.  I  am  thankful  that  it  is  as 
it  is.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  I  could  have  stood  it.  The  money 
realised  will  pay  one-third  of  all  that  I  owe  in  the  world — and  what 
will  pay  the  other  two-thirds  ?  I  am  as  well  and  as  capable  as  when 
those  misfortunes  began — January  was  a  year.  The  public  favour 
may  wane,  indeed,  but  it  has  not  failed  as  yet,  and  I  must  not  be  too 
anxious  about  that  possibility. 

James  B.  has  found  fault  with  my  tales  for  being  too  historical ; 
formerly  it  was  for  being  too  infantine.  He  calls  out  for  starch,  and 
is  afraid  of  his  cravat  being  too  stiff.  O  ye  critics,  will  nothing  melt 
ye? 

July  26. — Wrote  till  one  o'clock,  and  finished  the  first  volume  of 
Tales — about  six  leaves.  To-morrow  I  resume  the  Chronicles,  tooth 
and  nail.  They  must  be  good,  if  possible.  After  all,  works  of  fic- 
tion, viz.,  cursed  lies,  are  easier  to  write,  and  much  more  popular  than 
the  best  truths.  Walked  over  to  the  head  of  the  Roman  road,  com- 


ing to  the  Annual  Register  of  1849,  Mr.  Cadell          '  Thomas  Thomson,  Depute -Clerk  Register 
claimed  the  merit  of  a  scheme  which  he  had      for  Scotland  under  Lord  Frederick  Campbell, 
"quietly  and  privately  matured." 


282  JOURNAL  [JULY 

ing  round  by  Bauchland  and  the  Abbot's  Walk.  Wrote  letters  in 
the  evening. 

July  27. — In  the  morning  still  busied  with  my  correspondence. 
No  great  desire  to  take  up  the  Chronicles.  But  it  must  be  done. 
Devil  take  the  necessity,  and  the  folly  and  knavery,  that  occasioned 
it !  But  this  is  no  matter  now.  Accordingly  I  set  tightly  to 
work,  and  got  on  till  two,  when  I  took  a  walk.  Was  made  very  hap- 
py by  the  arrival  of  Sophia  and  her  babies,  all  in  good  health  and 
spirits. 

July  28. — Worked  hard  in  the  morning.  The  two  Ballantynes, 
and  Mr.  Hogarth  with  them.  Owen  Rees  came  early  in  the  day. 
Fergusons  came  to  dinner.  Rees  in  great  kindness  and  good  -  hu- 
mour, but  a  little  drumlie,  I  think,  about  Napoleon.  We  heard  San- 
die's  violin  after  dinner — 

" Whose  touch  harmonious  can  remove 

The  pangs  of  guilty  power  and  hopeless  love."1 

.1  do  not  understand  or  care  about  fine  music ;  but  there  is  some- 
thing in  his  violin  which  goes  to  the  very  heart.  Sophia  sung  too, 
and  we  were  once  more  merry  in  hall — the  first  time  for  this  many  a 
month  and  many  a  day. 

July  29. — Could  not  do  more  than  undertake  my  proofs  to-day, 
of  which  J.  B.  has  brought  out  a  considerable  quantity.  Walked  at 
one  with  Hogarth  and  Rees — the  day  sultry,  hot,  and  we  hot  accord- 
ingly, but  crept  about  notwithstanding.  I  am  sorry  to  see  my  old 
and  feal  friend  James  rather  unable  to  walk — once  so  stout  and  ac- 
tive— so  was  I  in  my  way  once.  Ah  !  that  vile  word,  what  a  world  of 
loss  it  involves ! 

July  30. — One  of  the  most  peppering  thunder-storms  which  I 
have  heard  for  some  time.  Routed  and  roared  from  six  in  the  morn- 
ing till  eight  continuously. 

"  The  thunder  ceased  not,  nor  the  fire  reposed ; 
Well  done,  old  Botherby." 

Time  wasted,  though  very  agreeably,  after  breakfast.  At  noon,  set 
out  for  Chiefswood  in  the  carriage,  and  walked  home,  footing  it  over 
rough  and  smooth,  with  the  vigour  of  early  days.  James  Ballantyne 
marched  on  too,  somewhat  meltingly,  but  without  complaint.  We 
again  had  beautiful  music  after  dinner.  The  heart  of  age  arose.  I 
have  often  wondered  whether  I  have  a  taste  for  music  or  no.  My  ear 
appears  to  me  as  dull  as  my  voice  is  incapable  of  musical  expression, 
and  yet  I  feel  the  utmost  pleasure  in  any  such  music  as  I  can  com- 
prehend, learned  pieces  always  excepted.  I  believe  I  may  be  about 

i  Johnson's  Epitaph  on  Claude  Phillips. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  283 

the  pitch  of  Terry's  connoisseurship,  and  that  "  I  have  a  reasonable 
good  ear  for  a  jig,  but  your  solos  and  sonatas  give  me  the  spleen." 

July  31. — Employed  the  morning  writing  letters  and  correcting 
proofs ;  this  is  the  second  day  and  scarce  a  line  written,  but  circum- 
stances are  so  much  my  apology  that  even  Duty  does  not  murmur,  at 
least  not  much.  We  had  a  drive  up  to  Galashiels,  and  sent  J.  B.  off 
to  Edinburgh  in  the  Mail.  Music  in  the  evening  as  before. 


AUGUST 

August  1. — My  guests  left  me  and  I  thought  of  turning  to  work 
again  seriously.  Finished  five  pages.  Dined  alone,  excepting  Huntly 
Gordon,  who  is  come  on  a  visit,  poor  lad.  I  hope  he  is  well  fixed  un- 
der Mr.  Planta's1  patronage.  Smoked  a  cigar  after  dinner.  Laughed 
with  my  daughters,  and  read  them  the  review  of  Hoffmann's  produc- 
tion out  of  Gillies's  new  Foreign  Review. 

The  undertaking  would  do,  I  am  convinced,  in  any  other  person's 
hands  than  those  of  the  improvident  editor ;  but  I  hear  he  is  living 
as  thoughtlessly  as  ever  in  London,  has  hired  a  large  house,  and  gives 
Burgundy  to  his  guests.  This  will  hardly  suit  £500  a  year. 

August  2. — Got  off  my  proofs.  Went  over  to  breakfast  at  Huntly 
Burn ;  the  great  object  was  to  see  my  cascade  in  the  Glen  suitably 
repaired.  I  have  had  it  put  to  rights  by  puddling  and  damming. 
What  says  the  frog  in  the  Fairy  Tale  ? — 

"Stuff  with  moss,  and  clog  with  clay, 
And  that  will  weize  the  water  away." 

Having  seen  the  job  pretty  tightly  done,  walked  deliciously  home 
through  the  woods.  But  no  work  all  this  while.  Then  for  up  and  at 
it.  But  in  spite  of  good  resolutions  I  trifled  with  my  children  after 
dinner,  and  read  to  them  in  the  evening,  and  did  just  nothing  at  all. 

August  3. — Wrote  five  pages  and  upwards — scarce  amends  for 
past  laziness.  Huntly  Gordon  lent  me  a  volume  of  his  father's  man- 
uscript memoirs.'"1  They  are  not  without  interest,  for  Pryse  Gordon, 
though  a  bit  of  a  roue,  is  a  clever  fellow  in  his  way.  One  thing 
struck  me,  being  the  story  of  an  Irish  swindler,  who  called  himself 
Henry  King  Edgeworth,  an  impudent  gawsey  fellow,  who  deserted 
from  Gordon's  recruiting  party,  enlisted  again,  and  became  so  great 
a  favourite  with  the  Colonel  of  the  regiment  which  he  joined,  that  he 
was  made  pay-sergeant.  Here  he  deserted  to  purpose  with  £200  or 
£300,  escaped  to  France,  got  a  commission  in  the  Corps  sent  to  in- 
vade Ireland,  was  taken,  recognised,  and  hanged.  What  would  Mr. 
Theobald  Wolfe  Tone  have  said  to  such  an  associate  in  his  regener- 
ating expedition  ?  These  are  thy  gods,  O  Israel !  The  other  was  the 
displeasure  of  the  present  Cameron  of  Lochiel,  on  finding  that  the 

1  Right  Hon.  Joseph  Planta  (son  of  Joseph  Secretaries  to  the  Treasury.  He  died  in  1847. 
Planta,  Principal  Librarian  of  the  British  Mu-  *  Personal  Memoirs  by  P.  L.  Gordon,  2  vola 
Beum  from  1799)  was  at  this  time  one  of  the  8vo,  Lond.  1830. 


AUGUST,  1827.]  JOURNAL  285 

forty  Camerons,  with  whom  he  joined  the  Duke  of  Gordon's  North- 
ern Fencible  regiment,  were  to  be  dispersed.  He  had  wellnigh  muti- 
nied and  marched  back  with  them.  This  would  be  a  good  anecdote 
for  Garth.1 

August  4. — Spent  the  morning  at  Selkirk,  examining  people  about 
an  assault.  When  I  returned  I  found  Charlotte  Kerr  here  with  a 
clever  little  boy,  Charles  Scott,  grandson  of  Charles  of  the  Woll,  and 
son  of  William,  and  grand-nephew  of  John  of  Midgehope.  He  seems 
a  smart  boy,  and,  considering  that  he  is  an  only  son  with  expectations, 
not  too  much  spoiled.  General  Yermoloff  called  with  a  letter  from  a 
Dr.  Knox,  whom  I  do  not  know.  If  it  be  Vicesimus,  we  met  nearly 
twenty-five  years  ago  and  did  not  agree.  But  General  YermolofF  s 
name  was  luckily  known  to  me.  He  is  a  man  in  the  flower  of  life, 
about  thirty,  handsome,  bold,  and  enthusiastic;  a  great  admirer  of 
poetry,  and  all  that.  He  had  been  in  the  Moscow  campaign,  and 
those  which  followed,  but  must  have  been  very  young.  He  made  not 
the  least  doubt  that  Moscow  was  burned  by  Rostopchin,  and  said  that 
there  was  a  general  rumour  before  the  French  entered  the  town,  and 
while  the  inhabitants  were  leaving  it,  that  persons  were  left  to  destroy 
it.  I  asked  him  why  the  magazine  of  gunpowder  had  not  been  set 
fire  to  in  the  first  instance.  He  answered  that  he  believed  the  explo- 
sion of  that  magazine  would  have  endangered  the  retreating  Russians. 
This  seemed  unsatisfactory.  The  march  of  the  Russians  was  too  dis- 
tant from  Moscow  to  be  annoyed  by  the  circumstance.  I  pressed  him 
as  well  as  I  could  about  the  slowness  of  Koutousoff's  operations ;  and 
he  frankly  owned  that  the  Russians  were  so  much  rejoiced  and  sur- 
prised to  see  the  French  in  retreat,  that  it  was  long  ere  they  could 
credit  the  extent  of  the  advantage  which  they  had  acquired.  This 
has  been  but  an  idle  day,  so  far  as  composition  is  concerned,  but  I 
was  detained  late  at  Selkirk. 

August  5. — Wrote  near  six  pages.  General  Yermoloff  left  me 
with  many  expressions  of  enthusiastic  regard,  as  foreigners  use  to  do. 
He  is  a  kinsman  of  Princess  Galitzin,  whom  I  saw  at  Paris.  I  walked 
with  Tom  after  one  o'clock.  Dined  en  famille  with  Miss  Todd,  a 
pretty  girl,  and  wrote  after  dinner. 

August  6. — This  morning  finished  proofs  and  was  bang  up  with 
everything.  When  I  "was  about  to  sit  down  to  write,  I  have  the 
agreeable  tidings  that  Henderson,  the  fellow  who  committed  the  as- 
sault at  Selkirk,  and  who  made  his  escape  from  the  officers  on  Satur- 
day, was  retaken,  and  that  it  became  necessary  that  I  should  go  up 
to  examine  him.  Returned  at  four,  and  found  Mrs.  George  Swinton 
from  Calcutta,  to  whose  husband  I  have  been  much  obliged,  with  Archie 
and  cousin  Peggie  Swinton,  arrived.  So  the  evening  was  done  up. 

August  7. — Cousins  still  continuing,  we  went  to  Melrose.     I  fin- 

>  General  David  Stewart  of  Garth,  author  of  Sir  Walter  said  of  him  that  no  man  was  "more 
Sketches  of  the  Highlanders.  2  vola  8vo,  Edin.  regretted,  or  perhaps  by  a  wider  circle  of 
J822.  General  Stewart  died  in  St.  Lucia  in  1829.  friends  and  acquaintance. " 


286  JOURXAL  [AUGUST 

ished,  however,  in  the  first  place,  a  pretty  smart  task,  which  is  so  far 
well,  as  we  expect  the  Skenes  to-morrow.  Lockhart  arrived  from  Lon- 
don. The  news  are  that  Canning  is  dangerously  ill.  This  is  the  bowl 
being  broken  at  the  cistern  with  a  vengeance.  If  he  dies  now,  it  will 
be  pity  it  was  not  five  months  ago.  The  time  has  been  enough  to  do 
much  evil,  but  not  to  do  any  permanent  good. 

August  8. — Huntly  Gordon  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  give  him 
my  correspondence,  which  we  had  begun  to  arrange  last  year.  I  re- 
solved not  to  lose  the  opportunity,  and  began  to  look  out  and  arrange 
the  letters  from  about  1810,  throwing  out  letters  of  business  and  such 
as  are  private.  They  are  of  little  consequence,  generally  speaking, 
yet  will  be  one  day  curious."  I  propose  to  have  them  bound  up,  to 
save  trouble.  It  is  a  sad  task ;  how  many  dead,  absent,  estranged, 
and  altered !  I  wrought  till  the  Skenes  came  at  four  o'clock.  I  love 
them  well ;  yet  I  wish  their  visit  had  been  made  last  week,  when  oth- 
er people  were  here.  It  kills  time,  or  rather  murders  it,  this  com- 
pany-keeping. Yet  what  remains  on  earth  that  I  like  so  well  as  a 
little  society  ?  I  wrote  not  a  line  to-day. 

August  9. — I  finished  the  arrangement  of  the  letters  so  as  to  put 
them  into  Mr.  Gordon's  hands.  It  will  be  a  great  job  done.  But,  in  the 
meanwhile,  it  interrupts  my  work  sadly,  for  I  kept  busy  till  one  o'clock 
to-day  with  this  idle  man's  labour.  Still,  however,  it  might  have  been 
long  enough  ere  I  got  a  confidential  person  like  Gordon  to  arrange  these 
confidential  papers.  They  are  all  in  his  hands  now.  Walked  after  one. 

August  10. — This  is  a  morning  of  fidgety,  nervous  confusion.  I 
sought  successively  my  box  of  Bramah  pens,  my  proof-sheets,  and 
last,  not  least  anxiously,  my  spectacles.  I  am  convinced  I  lost  a  full 
hour  in  these  various  chases.  I  collected  all  my  insubordinate  mova- 
bles at  once,  but  had  scarce  corrected  the  proof  and  written  half-a- 
score  of  lines,  than  enter  Dalgleish,  declaring  the  Blucher  hour  is 
come.  The  weather,  however,  is  rainy,  and  fitted  for  a  day  of  pure 
work,  but  I  was  able  only  to  finish  my  task  of  three  pages. 

The  death  of  the  Premier  is  announced.  Late  George  Canning, 
the  witty,  the  accomplished,  the  ambitious ;  he  who  had  toiled  thirty 
years,  and  involved  himself  in  the  most  harassing  discussions  to  at- 
tain this  dizzy  height;  he  who  had  held  it  for  three  months  of  in- 
trigue and  obloquy — and  now  a  heap  of  dust,  and  that  is  all.  He  was 
an  early  and  familiar  friend  of  mine,  thro  ugh  my  intimacy  with  George 
Ellis.  No  man  possessed  a  gayer  and  more  playful  wit  in  society ; 
no  one,  since  Pitt's  time,  had  more  commanding  sarcasm  in  debate ; 
in  the  House  of  Commons  he  was  the  terror  of  that  species  of  orators 
called  the  Yelpers.  His  lash  fetched  away  both  skin  and  flesh,  and 
would  have  penetrated  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros.  In  his  conduct  as  a 
statesman  he  had  a  great  fault :  he  lent  himself  too  willingly  to  in- 
trigue. Thus  he  got  into  his  quarrel  with  Lord  Castlereagh,1  and  lost 

'  Resulting  in  the  duel  of  21st  September,  1809.  —  See  Croker'e  Corretpondence,  vol.  i.  p.  20 ; 
and  Life,  vol.  iii.  ch.  xj*. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  287 

credit  -with  the  country  for  want  of  openness.  Thus  too,  he  got  in- 
volved with  the  Queen's  party  to  such  an  extent  that  it  fettered  him 
upon  that  memorable  quarrel,  and  obliged  him  to  butter  Sir  Robert 
Wilson  with  dear  friend,  and  gallant  general,  and  so  forth.  The  last 
composition  with  the  Whigs  was  a  sacrifice  of  principle  on  both  sides. 
I  have  some  reason  to  think  they  counted  on  getting  rid  of  him  in 
two  or  three  years.  To  me  Canning  was  always  personally  most  kind. 
I  saw,  with  pain,  a  great  change  in  his  health  when  I  met  him  at 
Colonel  Bolton's  at  Stors  in  1825.  In  London  I  thought  him  looking 
better. 

August  11. — Wrote  nearly  five  pages ;  then  walked.  A  visit  from 
Henry  Scott ;'  nothing  known  as  yet  about  politics.  A  high  Tory 
Administration  would  be  a  great  evil  at  this  timev  There  are  repairs 
in  the  structure  of  our  constitution  which  ought  to  be  made  at  this 
season,  and  without  which  the  people  will  not  long  be  silent.  A  pure 
Whig  Administration  would  probably  play  the  devil  by  attempting  a 
thorough  repair.  As  to  a  compound,  or  melo-dramatic,  Ministry,  the 
parts  out  of  which  such  a  one  could  be  organised  just  now  are  at  a 
terrible  discount  in  public  estimation,  nor  will  they  be  at  par  in  a  hur- 
ry again.  The  public  were  generally  shocked  at  the  complete  lack  of 
principle  testified  by  public  men  on  the  late  occasion,  and  by  some 
who  till  then  had  some  credit  with  the  public.  The  Duke  of  W.  has 
risen  by  his  firmness  on  the  one  side,  Earl  Grey  on  the  other. 

August  12. — Wrote  my  task  and  no  more.  Walked  with  Lock- 
hart  from  one  o'clock  to  four.  Took  in  our  way  the  Glen,  which  looks 
beautiful.  I  walked  with  extreme  pain  and  feebleness  until  we  began 
to  turn  homewards,  when  the  relaxation  of  the  ankle  sinews  seemed 
to  be  removed,  and  I  trode  merrily  home.  This  is  strange ;  that  ex- 
,  ercise  should  restore  the  nerves  from  the  chill  or  numbness  which  is 
allied  to  palsy,  I  am  well  aware,  but  how  it  should  restore  elasticity 
to  sinews  that  are  too  much  relaxed,  I  for  one  cannot  comprehend. 
Colonel  Russell  came  to  dinner  with  us,  and  to  consult  me  about 
some  family  matters.  He  has  the  spirit  of  a  gentleman ;  that  is  cer- 
tain. 

August  13. — A  letter  from  booksellers  at  Brussels  informs  me  of 
the  pleasant  tidings  that  Napoleon  is  a  total  failure ;  that  they  have 
lost  much  money  on  a  version  which  they  were  at  great  expense  in 
preparing,  and  modestly  propose  that  I  should  write  a  novel  to  make 
them  amends  for  loss  on  a  speculation  which  I  knew  nothing  about. 
"  Have  you  nothing  else  to  ask  ?"  as  Sancho  says  to  the  farmer,  who 
asks  him  to  stock  a  farm  for  his  son,  portion  off  his  daughters,  etc. 
etc.  They  state  themselves  to  be  young  booksellers ;  certes,  they 
must  hold  me  to  be  a  very  young  author !  Napoleon,  however,  has 
failed  on  the  Continent — and  perhaps  in  England  also  ;  for,  from  the 
mumbling,  half -grumbling  tone  of  Longman  and  Co.,  dissatisfaction 

i  Afterwards  Lord  Polwarth, 


288  JOURNAL  [AUGUST 

may  be  apprehended.  Well,  I  can  set  my  face  to  it  boldly.  I  live 
not  in  the  public  opinion,  not  I ;  but  egad !  I  live  by  it,  and  that  is 
worse.  Tu  ne  cede  mails,  sed  contra,  etc. 

I  corrected  and  transmitted  sheets  before  breakfast;  afterwards 
went  and  cut  wood  with  Tom,  but  returned  about  twelve  in  rather 
a  melancholy  humour.  I  fear  this  failure  may  be  followed  by  oth- 
ers ;  and  then  what  chance  of  extricating  my  affairs.  But  they  that 
look  to  freits,  freits  will  follow  them.  Hussards  en  avcwt,  —  care 
killed  a  cat.  I  finished  three  pages— that  is,  a  full  task  of  the  Chron- 
icles—  after  I  returned.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Philips  of  Manchester  came 
to  dinner. 

August  14. — Finished  my  task  before  breakfast.  A  bad  rainy 
day,  for  which  I  should  not  have  cared  but  for  my  guests.  However, 
being  good-humoured  persons  and  gifted  with  taste,  we  got  on  very 
well,  by  dint  of  showing  prints,  curiosities ;  finally  the  house  up  stairs 
and  down ;  and  at  length  by  undertaking  a  pilgrimage  to  Melrose  in 
the  rain,  which  pilgrimage  we  accomplished,  but  never  entered  the 
Abbey  Church,  having  just  had  wetting  enough  to  induce  us,  when 
we  arrived  at  the  gate,  to  "  Turn  again,  Whittington." 

August  15. — Wrote  in  the  morning.  After  breakfast  walked  with 
Mr.  Philips,  who  is  about  to  build  and  plan  himself,  and  therefore 
seemed  to  enter  con  amore  into  all  I  had  been  doing,  asked  questions, 
and  seemed  really  interested  to  learn  what  I  thought  myself  not  ill- 
qualified  to  teach.  The  little  feeling  of  superior  information  in  such 
cases  is  extremely  agreeable.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  great  scrape 
to  find  you  have  been  boring  some  one  who  did  not  care  a  d — 
about  the  matter,  so  to  speak  ;  and  that  you  might  have  been  as 
well  employed  in  buttering  a  whin-stone.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Philips  left 
us  about  twelve — day  bad.  I  wrote  nearly  five  pages  of  Chronicles. 

August  16. — A  wet,  disagreeable,  sulky  day,  but  such  things 'may 
be  carried  to  account.  I  wrote  upwards  of  seven  pages,  and  placed 
myself  rectus  in  curia  with  Madam  Duty,  who  was  beginning  to  lift 
up  her  throat  against  me.  Nothing  remarkable  except  that  Huntly 
Gordon  left  us. 

August  17. — Wrote  my  task  in  the  morning.  After  breakfast 
went  out  and  cut  wood  with  Tom  and  John  Swanston,  and  hewed 
away  with  my  own  hand ;  remained  on  foot  from  eleven  o'clock  till 
past  three,  doing,  in  my  opinion,  a  great  deal  of  good  in  plantations 
above  the  house,  where  the  firs  had  been  permitted  to  predominate 
too  much  over  the  oak  and  hardwood.  The  day  was  rough  and 
stormy — not  the  worst  for  working,  and  I  could  do  it  with  a  good 
conscience,  all  being  well  forward  in  the  duty  line.  After  tea  I 
worked  a  little  longer.  On  .the  whole  finished  four  leaves  and  up- 
wards— about  a  printed  sheet — which  is  enough  for  one  day. 

August  18. — Finished  about  five  leaves,  and  then  out  to  the  wood, 
where  I  chopped  away  among  the  trees,  laying  the  foundation  for 
future  scenery.  These  woods  will  one  day  occupy  a  great  number  of 


1827.]  JOURNAL  289 

hands.  Four  years  hence  they  will  employ  ten  stout  woodsmen  al- 
most every  day  of  the  year.  Henry  and  William  Scott  (Harden) 
came  to  dinner. 

August  19. — Wrote  till  about  one,  then  walked  for  an  hour  or 
two  by  myself  entirely ;  finished  five  pages  before  dinner,  when  we 
had  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  and  young  Davidoff,  who  is  their 
guest.  They  remained  with  us  all  night. 

August  20. — I  corrected  proofs  and  wrote  one  leaf  before  break- 
fast ;  then  went  up  to  Selkirk  to  try  a  fellow  for  an  assault.  The 
people  there  get  rather  riotous.  This  is  a  turbulent  fierce  fellow. 
Some  of  his  attitudes  were  good  during  the  trial.  This  dissipated 
my  attention  for  the  day,  although  I  was  back  by  half-past  two.  I 
did  not  work  any  more,  so  am  behind  in  my  reckoning. 

August  21. — Wrote  four  pages,  then  set  out  to  make  a  call  at 
Sunderland  Hall  and  Yair,  but  the  old  sociable  broke  down  before  we 
had  got  past  the  thicket,  so  we  trudged  all  back  on  foot,  and  I  wrote 
another  page.  This  makes  up  the  deficiency  of  yesterday. 

August  22. — I  wrote  four  or  five  leaves,  but  begin  to  get  aground 
for  want  of  Indian  localities.  Colonel  Ferguson's  absence  is  unlucky, 
and  half-a-dozen  Qui  Hi's  besides,  willing  to  write  chits,1  eat  tiffin, 
and  vent  all  their  Pagan  jargon  when  one  does  not  want  to  hear  it ; 
and  now  that  I  want  a  touch  of  their  slang,  lo !  there  is  not  one  near 
me.  Mr.  Adolphus,  son  of  the  celebrated  counsel,  and  author  of  a 
work  on  the  Waverley  Novels?  came  to  make  me  a  visit.  He  is  a 
modest  as  well  as  an  able  man,  and  I  am  obliged  to  him  for  the  deli- 
cacy with  which  he  treated  a  matter  in  which  I  was  personally  so 
much  concerned.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  asked  us  to  breakfast  to- 
morrow. 

August  23. — Went  to  breakfast  at  Chiefswood,  which,  with  a  cir- 
cuitous walk,  have  consumed  the  day.  Found,  in  the  first  place,  my 
friend  Allan,  the  painter,  busy  about  a  picture,  into  which  he  intends 
introducing  living  characters — a  kind  of  revel  at  Abbotsford.  Sec- 
ond, a  whimsical  party,  consisting  of  John  Stevenson,  the  bookseller, 
Peter  Buchan  from  Peterhead,  a  quiz  of  a  poetical  creature,  and  a 
bookbinder,  a  friend  of  theirs.  The  plan  was  to  consult  me  about 
publishing  a  great  quantity  of  ballads  which  this  Mr.  Buchan  has  col- 
lected. I  glanced  them  over.  He  has  been  very  successful,  for  they 
are  obviously  genuine,  and  many  of  them  very  curious.  Others  are 
various  editions  of  well-known  ballads.  I  could  not  make  the  man 
comprehend  that  these  last  were  of  little  value,  being  generally  worse 
readings  of  what  was  already  published.  A  small  edition  published 
by  subscription  may  possibly  succeed.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  few  of 
these  ballads  are  historical,  almost  all  being  of  the  romantic  cast. 
They  certainly  ought  to  be  preserved,  after  striking  out  one  or  two 

i  Persian  chitty=a.  short  note.  Critical  Remarks  on  the  Series  of  Novels  begin- 

ning with  "Waverley,"  and  an  Attempt  to  as- 
8  Letters  to  Richard  Heber,  Esq. ,  containing      certain  their  Author.    8vo,  London,  1821. 

19 


290  JOURNAL  [  AUGUST 

which  have  been  sophisticated,  I  suppose  by  Mr.  Buchan  himself,  which 
are  easily  distinguishable  from  the  genuine  ballads.1  No  one  but  Burns 
ever  succeeded  in  patching  up  old  Scottish  songs  with  any  good  effect. 

August  24. — Corrected  proofs  and  wrote  letters  in  the  morning. 
Began  a  review  upon  Monteath's  Planter  for  Lockhart.2  Other  mat- 
ters at  a  stand.  A  drive  down  to  Mertoun,  and  engaged  to  dine  there 
on  Sunday  first.  This  consumed  the  day. 

August  25. — Mr.  Adolphus  left  us  this  morning  after  a  very  agree- 
able visit.  We  all  dined  at  Dr.  Brewster's.  Met  Sir  John  Wright, 
Miss  Haig,  etc.  Slandered  our  neighbours,  and  were  good  company. 
Major  John  Scott  there.  I  did  a  little  more  at  the  review  to-day. 
But  I  cannot  go  on  with  the  tale  without  I  could  speak  a  little  Hin- 
dostanee — a  small  seasoning  of  curry-powder.  Ferguson  will  do  it  if 
I  can  screw  it  out  of  him. 

August  26. — Encore  review.  Walked  from  twelve  till  three,  then 
drove  to  Mertoun  with  Lockhart  and  Allan.  Dined  en  famille,  and 
home  by  half-past  ten.  We  thought  of  adding  a  third  volume  to  the 
Chronicles,  but  Gibson  is  afraid  it  would  give  grounds  for  a  pretext 
to  seize  this  work  on  the  part  of  Constable's  creditors,  who  seem  de- 
termined to  take  any  advantage  of  me,  but  they  can  only  show  their 
teeth  I  trust ;  though  I  wish  the  arbitration  was  ended. 

August  27. — Sent  off  proofs  in  morning,  revised  in  afternoon. 
Walked  from  one  till  four.  What  a  life  of  uniformity  !  Yet  I  never 
wish  to  change  it.  I  even  regret  I  must  go  to  town  to  meet  Lady 
Compton3  next  week. 

A  singular  letter  from  a  lady,  requesting  I  would  father  a  novel 
of  hers.  That  won't  pass.4 

Cadell  writes  me,  transmitting  a  notice  from  the  French  papers 
that  Gourgaud5  has  gone,  or  is  going,  to  London  to  verify  the  facts 
alleged  in  my  history  of  Napoleon,  and  the  bibliopolist  is  in  a  great 
funk.  I  lack  some  part  of  his  instinct.  I  have  done  Gourgaud  no 

1  They  were  published  under  the  title  An-  these  remarkable  documents,  guessed  that 

dent  Ballads  and  Songs,  2  vols.  8vo,  1828.  Gourgaud  might  be  inclined  to  fix  a  personal 

a  The  Forester's  Guide  and  Profitable  Plant-  quarrel  on  himself;  and  there  now  appeared 

er,  reviewed  in  the  Quarterly,  Oct.  1827.  See  in  the  newspapers  a  succession  of  hints  that 

also  "On  Planting  Waste  Lands,"  in  Misc.  the  General  was  seriously  bent  on  this  pur- 

Prose  Works,  vol.  xxi.  pp.  1-76.  pose.  He  applied  as  Colonel  Grngg  would  have 

3  Daughter  of  Mrs.  Maclean  Clephane,  and  done  forty  years  before  to  The  Baronet"  [W. 

afterwards  Marchioness  of  Northampton.  Clerk].—  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  142-3. 

*  Scott's  indorsation  of  this  letter  is  char-  A  short  time  previously  Gourgaud  had  had  a 
acteristic — "Prodigious,  bold    request,  Tom  quarrel  with  Count  S6gur  regarding  the  latter's 
Thumb."  History  of  the  Russian  Campaign,  to  which  he 

•  Among  the  documents  laid  before  Scott  in  wrote  a  reply  in  1825,  and  then  fought  a  duel 
the  Colonial  Office,  when  he  was  in  London  at  with  the  author  in  support  of  his  allegations. 
the  close  of  1826,  "were  some  which  repre-  In  Scott's  case,  however,  it  came  to  nothing 
sented  one  of  Bonaparte's  attendants  at  St.  beyond  a  paper  war,  which  Sir  Walter  declined 
Helena,   General    Gourgaud,    as   having    been  to  prolong,  leaving  the  question  to  be  decided 
guilty  of  gross  unfairness,  giving  the  English  by  the  general  public.     It  is  duo  to  Gourgaud 
Government  private  information  that  the  Em-  to  state  that  on  two  occasions  he  saved  Xapo- 
peror's  complaints  of  ill-usage  were  utterly  Icon's  life,  though  his  subsequent  information 
unfounded,  and  yet  then  and  afterwards  aid-  to  the  British  Government  did  not  tend  to  in- 
ing  and  assisting  the  delusion  in  France  as  to  crease  his  popularity  with   the   Bonapartists. 
the  harshness  of  Sir  Hudson  Lowe's  conduct  He  died  at  Paris  in  his  sixty-ninth  year  on 
towards  his  captive.     Sir  Walter,  when  using  July  25th,  1852. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  291 

wrong :  every  word  imputed  to  him  exists  in  the  papers  submitted  to 
me  as  historical  documents,  and  I  should  have  been  a  shameful  cow- 
ard if  I  had  shunned  using  them.  At  my  years  it  is  somewhat  late 
for  an  affair  of  honour,  and  as  a  reasonable  man  I  would  avoid  such 
an  arbitrament,  but  will  not  plead  privilege  of  literature.  The  coun- 
try shall  not  be  disgraced  in  my  person,  and  having  stated  why  I 
think  I  owe  him  no  satisfaction,  I  will  at  the  same  time  most  willing- 
ly give  it  to  him. 

"  II  sera  re$u, 

.      Biribi, 

A  la  fa9on  de  Barbaru, 
Mon  ami." 

I  have  written  to  Will  Clerk  to  stand  my  friend  if  necessary.  He  has 
mettle  in  him,  and  thinks  of  my  honour  as  well  as  my  safety. 

August  28. — I  am  still  bothering  with  the  review,  but  gave  Lock- 
hart  fifteen  leaves,  which  is  something.  Learned  with  regret  that 
Williams  leaves  his  situation  of  Rector  of  the  New  Academy.  It  is 
a  shot  in  the  wing  of  the  institution  ;  for  he  is  a  heaven-born  teacher. 
Walked  at  two  till  four  along  the  thicket,  and  by  the  river-side,  where 
I  go  seldom ;  I  can't  say  why,  unless  that  the  walk  is  less  private 
than  those  more  distant.  Lockhart,  Allan,  and  I,  talk  of  an  excursion 
to  Kelso  to-morrow.  I  have  no  friends  there  now.  Yet  once  how 
many ! 

August  29. — Went  on  our  little  expedition,  breakfasting  at  Mer- 
toun.  Called  at  Fleurs,  where  we  found  Sir  John  S.  and  his  whole 
family.  The  great  lady  received  us  well,  though  we  had  been  very 
remiss  in  our  duty.  From  that  we  went  to  Kelso,  where  I  saw  not  a 
soul  to  acknowledge  former  acquaintance.  How  should  I,  when  my 
residence  there  was  before  1783, 1  fancy  ?'  The  little  cottage  in  which 
"I  lived  with  poor  Aunt  Jenny  is  still  standing,  but  the  great  garden  is 
divided  betwixt  three  proprietors.  Its  huge  platanus  tree  withered, 
I  was  told,  in  the  same  season  which  was  fatal  to  so  many  of  the  spe- 
cies. It  was  cut  down.  The  yew-hedges,  labyrinths,  wildernesses, 
and  other  marks  that  it  had  once  been  the  abode  of  one  of  the  Mil- 
lers connected  with  the  author  of  the  Gardener's  Dictionary  (they  were 
a  Quaker  family),  are  all  obliterated,  and  the  place  is  as  common  and 
vulgar  as  may  be.  The  lady  the  cottage  belongs  to  was  very  civil. 
Allan,  as  a  man  of  taste,  was  much  delighted  with  what  he  saw. 
When  we  returned,  we  found  our  party  at  home  increased  by  Lady 
Anna  Maria  Elliot,  who  had  been  showing  Melrose  to  two  friends, 
Miss  Drinkwaters.  Lady  M.'s  wit  and  good-humour  made  the  even- 
ing go  pleasantly  off.  There  were  also  two  friends  of  Charles's,  by 
name  Paley  (a  nephew  of  the  archdeacon)  and  Ashworth.  They  seem 
nice  young  men,  with  modesty  and  good-breeding.  I  am  glad,  as  my 
mother  used  to  say,  that  his  friends  are  so  presentable.  Moreover, 

»  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  47,  155-156. 


292 


JOURNAL 


[AUGUST,  1827. 


there  came  my  old,  right  trusty,  and  well-beloved  friend,  John  Rich- 
ardson, so  we  were  a  full  party.  Lady  Anna  Maria  returned  in  the 
evening.  Francis  Scott  also  dined  with  us. 

August  30. — Disposed  of  my  party  as  I  best  might,  and  worked 
at  my  review.  Walked  out  at  one,  and  remained  till  near  five.  Mr. 
Scott  of  Harden  and  David  Thomson,  W.S.,  dined  with  us.  Walked 
with  Mr.  Allan  through  Haxel  Cleugh. 

August  31. — Went  on  with  my  review ;  but  I  have  got  Sir  Henry's 
original  pamphlet,1  which  is  very  cleverly  written.  I  find  I  cannot 
touch  on  his  mode  of  transplantation  at  all  in  this  article.  It  involves 
many  questions,  and  some  of  importance,  so  I  will  make  another  ar- 
ticle for  January.  Walked  up  the  Rhymer's  Glen  with  John  Rich- 
ardson." 


»  The  Planters1  Guide,  by  Sir  Henry  Seton 
Steuart. 

a  In  the  North  British  Review,  No.  82,  there 
is  an  extremely  interesting  sketch  of  this  learn- 
ed Peerage  lawyer.  He  died  in  his  85th  year, 
in  1864,  at  his  country  seat,  Kirklands  in  Rox- 
burghshire, which  he  had  purchased  by  Sir 
Walter's  advice. 

The  following  amusing  narrative  of  what 
took  place  on  Tweedside  when  these  two  old 
friends  were  in  their  prime  is  given  in  Mr. 
Richardson's  own  words: — 

"  On  a  beautiful  morning  in  September,  1810, 
I  started  with  Sir  Walter  from  Ashiestiel.  We 
began  nearly  under  the  Ruins  of  Elibank,  and 
in  sight  of  the  'Hanging  Tree.'  I  only  had  a 
rod,  but  Sir  Walter  walked  by  my  side,  now 
quoting  Izaak  Walton,  as, '  Fish  me  this  stream 
by  inches,'  and  now  delighting  me  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  Border  stories.  After  the  capture 
of  numerous  fine  trout,  I  hooked  something 
greater  and  unseen,  which  powerfully  ran  out 


my  line.  Sir  Walter  got  into  a  state  of  great 
excitement,  exclaiming,  'It's  a  fish!  It's  a 
fish!  Hold  up  your  rod  !  Give  him  line!' and 
so  on.  The  rod,  which  belonged  to  one  of  his 
boys,  broke,  and  put  us  both  into  great  alarm ; 
but  I  contrived,  by  ascending  the  steep  bank 
and  holding  down  the  rod,  still  to  give  play  to 
the  reel,  till,  after  a  good  quarter  of  an  hour's 
struggle,  a  trout,  for  so  it  turned  out  to  be,  was 
conducted  round  a  little  peninsula.  Sir  Walter 
jumped  into  the  water,  seized  him,  and  threw 
him  out  on  the  grass.  Tom  Purdie  came  up  a 
little  time  after,  and  was  certainly  rather  dis- 
composed at  my  success.  '  It  will  be  some  sea 
brute,'  he  observed;  but  he  became  satisfied 
that  it  was  a  fine  river-trout,  and  such  as  he, 
as  he  afterwards  admitted,  had  not  been  killed 
in  Tweed  for  twenty  years;  and  when  I  moved 
down  the  water,  he  went,  as  Sir  Walter  after- 
wards observed,  and  gave  it  a  kick  on  the 
head,  exclaiming,  'To  be  ta'en  by  the  like  o' 
him  frae  Lunnon !'  " 


SEPTEMBER 

September  1. — Colonel  Ferguson  and  Colonel  Byers  breakfasted ; 
the  latter  from  India,  the  nephew  of  the  old  antiquarian  ;l  but  I  had 
not  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  him  about  the  Eastern  information  re- 
quired for  the  Chronicles.  Besides,  my  review  is  not  finished,  though 
I  wrought  hard  to-day.  Sir  William  Hamilton  and  his  brother,  Cap- 
tain Hamilton,  called  ;  also  young  DavidofE.  I  am  somewhat  sorry 
for  my  young  friend.  His  friends  permit  him  to  remain  too  long  in 
Britain  to  be  happy  in  Russia.  Yet  this  [is  a]  prejudice  of  those 
who  suppose  that  when  the  institutions  and  habits  by  which  they  are 
governed  come  to  be  known  to  strangers,  they  must  become  exclu- 
sively attached  to  them.  This  is  not  so.  The  Hottentot  returns 
from  civilisation  to  the  wild  manners  of  his  kraal,  and  wherefore 
should  not  a  Russian  resume  his  despotic  ideas  when  returned  to  his 
country  ?  „ 

September  2. — This  was  a  very  warm  day.  I  remained  at  home, 
chiefly  engaged  in  arranging  papers,  as  I  go  away  to-morrow.  It  is 
lucky  these  starts  happen  from  time  to  time  as  I  should  otherwise 
never  get  my  table  clear.  At  five  o'clock  the  air  became  cooler,  and 
I  sat  out  of  doors  and  played  with  the  children.  Anne,  who  had  been 
at  Mertoun  the  day  before,  brought  up  Anne  and  Elizabeth  Scott2 
with  her,  and  Francis  has  been  with  us  since  yesterday.  Richardson 
left  us. 

September  3. — Went  on  with  my  arranging  of  papers  till  twelve, 
when  I  took  chaise  and  arrived  at  Melville  Castle.  Found  Lord  and 
Lady  M.  and  the  two  young  ladies.  Dr.  Hope,  my  old  school-fellow 
James  Hope3  and  his  son,  made  up  our  party,  which  was  very  pleas- 
ant. After  they  went  away  we  had  some  private  conversation  about 
politics.  The  Whigs  and  Tories  of  the  Cabinet  are  strangely  divided, 
the  former  desiring  to  have  Mr.  Herries  for  Chancellor  of  the  Excheq- 
uer, the  latter  to  have  Lord  Palmerston,  that  Calcraft  may  be  Secre- 
tary of  War.  The  King  has  declared  firmly  for  Herries,  on  which 
Lord  Goderich  with  tears  entreated  Herries  to  remove  the  bone  of 
contention  by  declining  to  accept.  The  King  called  him  a  blubber- 
ing fool.  That  the  King  does  not  like  or  trust  the  Whigs  is  obvious 
from  his  passing  over  Lord  Lansdowne,  a  man  who,  I  should  sup- 

•  James  Byers,  1733-1817.  *  James  Hope,  W.S.,  Scott's  school-fellow, 

2  Anne  Scott  of  Harden,  afterwards  wife  of       died  in  Edinburgh  14th  November,  1842. 

Lord  Jerviswoode,  and  Elizabeth  of  Colonel 

Charles  Wyudham. 


294  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

pose,  is  infinitely  better  fitted  for  a  Premier  than  Goderich.  But  he 
probably  looks  with  no  greater  [favour]  on  the  return  of  the  High 
Tories.  I  fear  he  may  wish  to  govern  by  the  system  of  bascule,  or 
balancing  the  two  parties,  a  perilous  game.1  The  Advocate"  also 
dined  with  us. 

September  4,  [Edinburgh^. — Came  into  town  after  breakfast,  and 
saw  Gibson,  whose  account  of  affairs  is  comfortable.  Also  Will- 
iam Clerk,  whom  I  found  quite  ready  and  willing  to  stand  my  friend 
if  Gourgaud  should  come  my  road.  He  agrees  with  me  that  there 
is  no  reason  why  he  should  turn  on  me,  but  that  if  he  does,  rea- 
son or.  none,  it  is  best  to  stand  buff  to  him.  It  is  clear  to  me  that 
what  is  least  forgiven  in  a  man  of  any  mark  or  likelihood  is  want  of 
that  article  blackguardly  called  pluck.  All  the  fine  qualities  of  genius 
cannot  make  amends  for  it.  We  are  told  the  genius  of  poets  espe- 
cially is  irreconcilable  with  this  species  of  grenadier  accomplishment.' 
If  so,  quel  chien  de  genie  !  Saw  Lady  Compton.  I  dine  with  her  to- 
day, and  go  to  Glasgow  with  her  to-morrow. 

September  5. — Dined  with  Lady  Compton  yesterday,  and  talked 
over  old  stories  until  nine,  our  tete-a-tete  being  a  very  agreeable  one. 
Then  hence  to  my  good  friend  John  Gibson's,  and  talked  with  him 
of  sundries.  I  had  an  odd  dream  last  night.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  was  at  a  panorama,  when  a  vulgar  little  man  behind  me  was  making 
some  very  clever  but  impudent  remarks  on  the  picture,  and  at  the 
same  time  seemed  desirous  of  information,  which  no  one  would  give 
him.  I  turned  round  and  saw  a  young  fellow  dressed  like  a  common 
carter,  with  a  blue  coat  and  red  waistcoat,  and  a  whip  tied  across  him. 
He  was  young,  with  a  hatchet-face,  which  was  turned  to  a  brick  col- 
our by  exposure  to  the  weather,  sharp  eyes,  and  in  manner  and  voice 
not  unlike  John  Leyden.  I  was  so  much  struck  with  his  countenance 
and  talents  that  I  asked  him  about  his  situation,  and  expressed  a  wish 
to  mend  it.  He  followed  me,  from  the  hopes  which  I  excited,  and 
we  had  a  dreadful  walk  among  ruins,  and  afterwards  I  found  myself 
on  horseback,  and  in  front  of  a  roaring  torrent.  I  plunged  in  as  I 
have  formerly  done  in  good  sad  earnest,  and  got  to  the  other  side. 
Then  I  got  home  among  my  children  and  grandchildren,  and  there 
also  was  my  genius.  Now  this  would  defy  Daniel  and  the  soothsay- 
ers to  boot;  nor  do  I  know  why  I  should  now  put  it  down,  except 
that  I  have  seldom  seen  a  portrait  in  life  which  was  more  strongly 
marked  on  my  memory  than  that  man's.  Perhaps  my  genius  was 
Mr.  Dickinson,  papermaker,  who  has  undertaken  that  the  London 
creditors  who  hold  Constable's  bills  will  be  satisfied  with  10s.  in  the 
pound.  This  would  be  turning  a  genius  to  purpose,  for  6s.  8d.  is 
provided,  and  they  can  have  no  difficulty  about  3s.  4d.  These  debts, 
for  which  I  am  legally  responsible,  though  no  party  to  their  contrac- 

1  Qreville,  vol.  i.  pp.  110-113.  '  See  letter  to  Duke  of  Buccleucb  on  James 

*  Sir  W.  Rae,  who  was  Ix>rd  Advocate  from      Hogg  at  p.  300. 
1819  to  1830. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  295 

tion,  amount  to  £30,000  odds.  Now  if  they  can  be  cleared  for  £1 5,000 
it  is  just  so  much  gained.  This  would  be  a  giant  step  to  freedom. 
I  see  in  my  present  comfortable  quarters1  some  of  my  own  old  fur- 
niture in  Castle  St.,  which  gives  me  rather  queer  feelings.  I  remem- 
ber poor  Charlotte  and  I  having  so  much  Bought  about  buying  these 
things.  Well,  they  are  in  kind  and  friendly  hands. 

September  6. — Went  with  Lady  Compton  to  Glasgow,  and  had  as 
pleasant  a  journey  as  the  kindness,  wit,  and  accomplishment  of  my 
companion  could  make  it.  Lady  C.  gives  an  admirable  account  of 
Rome,  and  the  various  strange  characters  she  has  met  in  foreign  parts. 
I  was  much  taken  with  some  stories  out  of  a  romance  called  Manu- 
scrit  trouve  a  Saragosse,  by  a  certain  Count  John  Polowsky  [Potocki  ?], 
a  Pole.  It  seems  betwixt  the  style  of  Cazotti,  Count  Hamilton  and 
Le  Sage.  The  Count  was  a  toiler  after  supernatural  secrets,  an  adept, 
and  understood  the  cabbala.  He  put  himself  to  death,  with  many 
odd  circumstances,  inferring  derangement.  I  am  to  get  a  sight  of 
the  book  if  it  be  possible.  At  Glasgow  (Buck's  Head)  we  met  Mrs. 
Maclean  Clephane  and  her  two  daughters,  and  there  was  much  joy. 
After  the  dinner  the  ladies  sung,  particularly  Anna  Jane,  who  has 
more  taste  and  talent  of  every  kind  than  half  the  people  going  with 
great  reputations  on  their  backs. 

A  very  pleasant  day  was  paid  for  by  a  restless  night. 

September  7. — This  day  had  calls  from  Lord  Provost  and  Mr. 
Rutherford  (William)  with  invitations,  which  I  declined.  Read  in 
manuscript  a  very  clever  play  (comedy)  by  Miss  A.  J.  Clephane  in 
the  old  style,  which  was  very  happily  imitated.  The  plot  was  con- 
fused— too  much  taking  and  retaking  of  prisoners,  but  the  dialogue 
was  excellent.  .  • 

Took  leave  of  these  dear  friends,  never  perhaps  to  meet  all  to- 
gether again,  for  two  of  us  are  old.  Went  down  by  steam  to  Colonel 
Campbell's,  Blythswood  House,  where  I  was  most  courteously  re- 
ceived by  him  and  his  sisters.  We  are  kinsfolk  and  very  old  ac- 
quaintance. His  seat  here  is  a  fine  one ;  the  house  is  both  grand 
and  comfortable. 

We  walked  to  Lawrence  Lockhart's  of  Inchinnan,  within  a  mile 
of  Blythswood  House.  It  is  extremely  nice  and  comfortable,  far  be- 
yond the  style  of  a  Scotch  clergyman ;  but  Lawrence  is  wealthy.  I 
found  John  Lockhart  and  Sophia  there,  returned  from  Largs.  We 
all  dined  at  Colonel  Campbell's  on  turtle,  and  all  manner  of  good 
things.  Miss  A.  and  H.  Walker  were  there.  The  sleep  at  night 
made  amends  for  the  Buck's  Head. 

-  September  8. — Colonel  Campbell  carried  me  to  breakfast  in  Glas- 
gow, and  at  ten  I  took  chaise  for  Corehouse,  where  I  found  my  old 
friend  George  Cranstoun  rejoiced  to  see  me,  and  glad  when  I  told 
him  what  Lord  Newton  had  determined  in  my  affairs.  I  should  ob- 

»  No.  10  Walker  Street. 


296  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

serve  I  saw  the  banks  of  the  Clyde  above  Hamilton  much  denuded 
of  its  copse,  untimely  cut ;  and  the  stools  ill  cut,  and  worse  kept. 
Cranstoun  and  I  walked  before  dinner.  I  never  saw  the  great  fall  of 
Corehouse  from  this  side  before,  and  I  think  it  the  best  point,  per- 
haps ;  at  all  events,  it  is  not  that  from  which  it  is  usually  seen  ;  so 
Lord  Corehouse  has  the  sight  and  escapes  the  tourists.  Dined  with 
him,  his  sister  Mrs.  Cunningham,  and  Corehouse. 

I  omitted  to  mention  in  yesterday's  note  that  within  Blythswood 
plantation,  near  to  the  Bridge  of  Inchinnan,  the  unfortunate  Earl  of 
Argyle  was  taken  in  1685,  at  a  stone  called  Argyle's  Stone.  Blyths- 
wood says  the  Highland  drovers  break  down  his  fences  in  order  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  place.  The  Earl  had  passed  the  Cart  river,  and 
was  taken  on  the  Renfrew  side. 

September  9. — This  is  a  superb  place  of  Corehouse's.  Cranstoun 
has  as  much  feeling  about  improvement  as  other  things.  Like  all 
new  improvers,  he  is  at  more  expense  than  is  necessary,  plants  too 
thick,  and  trenches  where  trenching  is  superfluous.  But  this  is  the 
eagerness  of  a  young  artist.  Besides  the  grand  lion,  the  Fall  of 
Clyde,  he  has  more  than  one  lion's  whelp ;  a  fall  of  a  brook  in  a 
cleugh  called  Mill's  Gill  must  be  superb  in  rainy  weather.  The  old 
Castle  of  Corehouse  is  much  more  castle  -  like  on  this  than  from  the 
other  side. 

Left  Corehouse  at  eight  in  the  morning,  and  reached  Lanark  by 
half-past  nine.  I  was  thus  long  in  travelling  three  miles  because  the 
postilion'  chose  to  suppose  I  was  bound  for  Biggar,  and  was  two 
miles  ere  I  discovered  what  he  was  doing.  I  thought  he  aimed  at 
crossing  the  Clyde  by  some  new  bridge  above  Bonnington.  Break- 
fasted at  Lanark  with  the  Lockharts,  and  reached  Abbotsford  this 
evening  by  nine  o'clock. 

Thus  ends  a  pleasant  expedition  among  the  people  I  like  most. 
Drawback  only  one.  It  has  cost  me  £15,  including  two  gowns  for 
Sophia  and  Anne ;  and  I  have  lost  six  days'  labour.  Both  may  be 
soon  made  up. 

N.B. — We  lunched  (dined,  videlicet)  with  Professor  Wilson  at 
Inverleithen,  and  met  James  Hogg.1 

1  Scott's  unwearied  interest  in  James  Hogg,  Wilson,  declared  he  was  Burns's  rival  asasong- 

despite  the  waywardness  of  this  imaginative  writer,  and  his  superior  in  anything  relating  to 

genius,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  traits  in  his  external  nature !  indeed  they  wrote  of  him  as 

character.     Readers  of  Mr.  Lockhart's  Life  do  unsurpassed  by  poet  or  painter  in  his  fairy 

not  require  to  be  reminded  of  the  active  part  tales  of  ancient  time,  dubbing  him  Poet  Lau- 

he  took  in  promoting  the  welfare  of  the  "Et-  reate  to  the  Queen  of  Elfland,  and  yet  his  un- 

trick  Shepherd  "  on  many  occasions,  from  the  refined  manner  tempted  these  friends  to  speak 

outset  of  their  acquaintance  in  1801  until  the  of  him  familiarly  as  the  greatest  hog  in  all 

end  of  his  life.  Apollo's  herd,  or  the  Boar  of  the  Forest,  etc., 

Hogg  was  a  strange  compound  of  boisterous  etc. 

roughness  and  refinement  in  expression,  and  Wordsworth,  however,  on  November  21, 1835, 
these  odd  contrasts  surprised  strangers  such  as  when  his  brother  bard  had  just  left  the  sun- 
Moore  and  Ticknor.    The  former  was  shocked,  shine  for  the  sunless  land,  wrote  from  his  heart 
and  the  latter  said  his  conversation  was  a  per-  the  noble  lines  ending — 
petual  contradiction  to  the  exquisite  delicacy 

of  Kilinfn  >/  "  D6***1  uP°n  the  Braes  of  Yarrow, 

The  critics  ot  the  day,  headed  by  Professor  CIoted  tte  Poet  sh«PhCTd>»  «?«•" 


1827.]  JOURNAL  207 

September  10,  [Abbotsford]. — Gourgaud's  wrath  has  burst  forth  in 
a  very  distant  clap  of  thunder,  in  which  he  accuses  me  of  combining 
with  the  ministry  to  slander  his  rag  of  a  reputation.  He  be  d — d  for 
a  fool,  to  make  his  case  worse  by  stirring.  I  shall  only  revenge  my- 
self by  publishing  the  whole  extracts  I  made  from  the  records  of  the 
Colonial  Office,  in  which  he  will  find  enough  to  make  him  bite  his 
nails.  Still  I  wonder  he  did  not  come  over  and  try  his  manhood 
otherwise.  I  would  not  have  shunned  him  nor  any  Frenchman  who 
ever  kissed  Bonaparte's  breech. 

September  11. — Went  to  Huntly  Burn  and  breakfasted  with  Colo- 
nel Ferguson,  who  has  promised  to  have  some  Indian  memoranda  ready 
for  me.  After  breakfast  went  to  choose  the  ground  for  a  new  to  din- 
plantation,  to  be  added  next  week  to  the  end  of  Jane's  Wood.  Came 
ner  Lord  Carnarvon  and  his  son  and  daughter  ;  also  Lord  Francis 
Leveson  Gower,  the  translator  of  Faust. 

September  12. — Walk  with  Lord  Francis.  When  we  return,  be- 
hold ye !  enter  Lady  Hampden  and  Lady  Wedderburn.  In  the  days 
of  George  Square,  Jane  and  Maria  Brown,1  beauties  and  toasts. 
There  was  much  pleasure  on  my  side,  and  some,  I  suppose,  on  theirs ; 
and  there  was  a  riding,  and  a  running,  and  a  chattering,  and  an  ask- 
ing, and  a  showing — a  real  scene  of  confusion,  yet  mirth  and  good 
spirits.  Our  guests  quit  us  next  day. 

September  13. — Fined  a  man  for  an  assault  at  Selkirk.  He  pleaded 
guilty,  which  made  short  work.  The  beggarly  appearance  of  the  Jury 
in  the  new  system  is  very  worthy  of  note.  One  was  a  menial  servant. 
When  I  returned,  James  Ballantyne  and  Mr.  Cadell  arrived.  They 
bring  a  good  account  of  matters  in  general.  Cadell  explained  to  me 
a  plan  for  securing  the  copyright  of  the  novels,  which  has  a  very 
good  face.  It  appears  they  are  going  off  fast ;  and  if  the  glut  of 
the  market  is  once  reduced  by  sales,  the  property  will  be  excellent, 
and  may  be  increased  by  notes.  James  B.  brought  his  son.  Robert 
Rutherford  also  here,  and  Miss  Russells. 

September  14. — In  the  morning  wrote  my  answer  to  Gourgaud, 
rather  too  keen  perhaps,  but  I  owe  him  nothing ;  and  as  for  exciting 
his  resentment,  I  will  neither  seek  nor  avoid  it. 

Cadell's  views  seem  fair,  and  he  is  open  and  explicit.  His  broth- 
ers support  him,  and  he  has  no  want  of  cash.  He  sells  two  or  three 
copies  of  Bonaparte  and  one  of  the  novels,  or  two,  almost  every  day. 
He  must  soon,  he  says,  apply  to  London  for  copies.  Read  a  Refuta- 
tion, as  it  calls  itself,  of  Napoleon's  history.  It  is  so  yery  polite  and 
accommodating  that  every  third  word  is  a  concession — the  work  of  a 
man  able  to  judge  distinctly  on  specific  facts,  but  erroneous  in  his 
general  results.  He  will  say  the  same  of  me,  perhaps.  Ballantyne 
and  Cadell  leave  us.  Enter  Miss  Sinclairs,  two  in  number,  also  a 

1  Another,  sister  Georgiana,  married  General  the  Honourable  Sir  Alexander  Hope,  G.C.B., 
raiidfather  of  Mrs.  Maxwell  Scott. 


298  JOURNAL  [SEPT. 

translator,  and  a  little  Flemish  woman,  liis  wife — very  good-humoured, 
rather  a  little  given  to  compliment ;  name  Fauconpret.  They  are  to 
return  at  night  in  a  gig  as  far  as  Kelso — a  bold  undertaking. 

September  16. — The  ladies  went  to  Church;  I,  God  forgive  me, 
finished  the  Chronicles1  with  a  good  deal  of  assistance  from  Colonel 
Ferguson's  notes  about  Indian  affairs.  The  patch  is,  I  suspect,  too 
glaring  to  be  pleasing  ;  but  the  Colonel's  sketches  are  capitally  good. 
I  understand,  too,  there  are  one  or  two  East  Indian  novels  which  have 
lately  appeared.  Naboclish  !  vogue  la  galere  ! 

September  17. — Received  from  James  B.  the  proofs  of  my  reply  to 
General  Gourgaud,  with  some  cautious  balaam  from  mine  honest 
friend,  alarmed  by  a  Highland  Colonel,  who  had  described  Gourgaud 
as  a  mauvais  garfon,  famous  fencer,  marksman,  and  so  forth.  I  wrote 
in  answer,  which  is  true,  that  I  would  hope  all  my  friends  would  trust 
to  my  acting  with  proper  caution  and  advice  ;  but  that  if  I  were  capa- 
ble, in  a  moment  of  weakness,  of  doing  anything  short  of  what  my 
honour  demanded,  I  would  die  the  death  of  a  poisoned  rat  in  hole, 
out  of  mere  sense  of  my  own  degradation.  God  knows,  that,  though 
life  is  placid  enough  with  me,  I  do  not  feel  anything  to  attach  me  to 
it  so  strongly  as  to  occasion  my  avoiding  any  risk  which  duty  to  my 
character  may  demand  from  me. 

I  set  to  work  with  the  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  second  volume, 
and  finished  four  pages. 

September  18. — Wrote  five  pages  of  the  Tales.  Walked  from 
Huntly  Burn,  having  gone  in  the  carriage.  Smoked  my  cigar  with 
Lockhart  after  dinner,  and  then  whiled  away  the  evening  over  one  of 
Miss  Austen's  novels.  There  is  a  truth  of  painting  in  her  writings 
which  always  delights  me.  They  do  not,  it  is  true,  get  above  the 
middle  classes  of  society,  but  there  she  is  inimitable. 

September  19. — Wrote  three  pages,  but  dawdled  a  good  deal ;  yet 
the  Tales  get  on,  although  I  feel  bilious,  and  vapourish,  I  believe  I 
must  call  it.  At  such  times  my  loneliness,  and  the  increasing  ina- 
bility to  walk,  come  dark  over  me,  but  surely  these  mulligrubs  be- 
long to  the  mind  more  than  the  body. 

September  22. — Captain  and  Colonel  Ferguson,  the  last  returned 
from  Ireland,  dined  here.  Prayer  of  the  minister  of  the  Cumbrays, 
two  miserable  islands  in  the  mouth  of  the  Clyde  :  "  O  Lord,  bless 
and  be  gracious  to  the  Greater  and  the  Lesser  Cumbrays,  and  in 
thy  mercy  do  not  forget  the  adjacent  islands  of  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland." 

September  23. — Worked  in  the  morning ;  then  drove  over  to 
Huntly  Burn,  chiefly  to  get  from  the  good-humoured  Colonel  the  ac- 
curate spelling  of  certain  Hindu  words  which  I  have  been  using  un- 
der his  instructions.  By  the  way,  the  sketches  he  gave  me  of  Indian 
manners  are  highly  picturesque.  I  have  made  up  my  Journal,  which 

»  Chronicle*  of  the  Canongate.     First  Series,  ending  with  the  story  of  The  Surgeon  t  Daughter. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  299 

was  three  days  in  arrear.  Also  I  wrought  a  little,  so  that  the  second 
volume  of  Grandfather's  Tales  is  nearly  half  finished. 

September  24. — Worked  in  the  morning  as  usual,  and  sent  off  the 
proofs  and  copy.  Something  of  the  black  dog  still  hanging  about 
me  ;  but  I  will  shake  him  off.  I  generally  affect  good  spirits  in 
company  of  my  family,  whether  I  am  enjoying  them  or  not.  It  is 
too  severe  to  sadden  the  harmless  mirth  of  others  by  suffering  your 
own  causeless  melancholy  to  be  seen ;  and  this  species  of  exertion  is, 
like  virtue,  its  own  reward ;  for  the  good  spirits,  which  are  at  first 
simulated,  become  at  length  real.1 

September  25,  [Edinburgh], — Got  into  town  by  one  o'clock,  the 
purpose  being  to  give  my  deposition  before  Lord  Newton  in  a  case 
betwixt  me  and  Constable's  creditors.  My  oath  seemed  satisfactory ; 
but  new  reasons  were  alleged  for  additional  discussion,  which  is,  I 
trust,  to  end  this  wearisome  matter.  I  dined  with  Mr.  Gibson,  and 
slept  there.  J.  B.  dined  with  us,  and  we  had  thoughts  how  to  save 
our  copyright  by  a  bargain  with  Cadell.  I  hope  it  will  turn  to 
good,  as  I  could  add  notes  to  a  future  edition,  and  give  them  some 
value. 

September  2Q,[Abbotsford]. — Set  off  in  mail  coach,  and  my  horses 
met  me  at  Yair  Bridge.  I  travelled  with  rather  a  pleasant  man,  an 
agent,  I  found,  on  Lord  SeafordV  West  Indian  Estates.  Got  home 
by  twelve  o'clock,  and  might  have  been  here  earlier  if  the  Tweed  had 
not  been  too  large  for  fording.  I  must  note  down  my  cash  lest  it 
gets  out  of  my  head ;  "  may  the  foul  fa'  the  gear,  and  the  blathrie 
o't,"  *  and  yet  there's  no  doing  either  with  it  or  without  it. 

September  27. — The  morning  was  damp,  dripping,  and  unpleas- 
ant ;  so  I  even  made  a  work  of  necessity,  and  set  to  the  Tales  like  a 
dragon.  I  murdered  M'Lellan  of  Bomby  at  Thrieve  Castle ;  stabbed 
the  Black  Douglas  in  the  town  of  Stirling ;  astonished  King  James 
before  Roxburgh  ;  and  stifled  the  Earl  of  Mar  in  his  bath  in  the  Can- 
ongate.  A  wild  world,  my  masters,  this  Scotland  of  ours  must  have 
been.  No  fear  of  want  of  interest;  no  lassitude  in  those  days  for 
want  of  work. 

"For  treason,  d'  ye  see, 
Was  to  them  a  dish  of  tea, 

And  murther  bread  and  butter." 

We  dined  at  Gattonside  with  Mr.  Bainbridge,  who  kindly  presented 
me  with  six  bottles  of  super-excellent  Jamaica  rum,  and  with  a  manu- 
script collection  of  poetry,  said  to  be  Swift's  handwriting,  which  it 
resembles.  It  is,  I  think,  poor  Stella's.  Nothing  very  new  in  it. 

September  28. — Another  dropping  and  busy  day.  I  wrought  hard 
at  the  Historical  Tales,  which  get  on  fast. 

September  29. — I  went  on  with  the  little  history  which  now  (i.e. 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  justly  remarks  that  this  en-         a  Charles  Rose  Ellis  had  been  created  Baron 
try  "paints  the  man  in  his  tenderness,  his  for-      Seaford  in  1826. 
titude,  and  happy  wisdom."  3  See  Cromek's  Reliques  of  Burns,  p.  210. 


300  JOURNAL  [SEPT.  1827. 

vol.  ii.)  doth  appropinque  an  end.  Received  in  the  evening  [Nos.  37 
to  41  ?]  of  the  Roxburghe  publications.  They  are  very  curious,  and, 
generally  speaking,  well  selected.  The  following  struck  me : — An 
Italian  poem  on  the  subject  of  Floddenfield ;  the  legend  of  St.  Rob.- 
ert  of  Knaresborough ;  two  plays,  printed  from  MS.  by  Mr.  Hasle- 
wood.  It  does  not  appear  that  Mr.  H.  fully  appreciated  the  light 
which  he  was  throwing  on  the  theatrical  history  by  this  valuable 
communication.  It  appears  that  the  change  of  place,  or  of  scene  as 
we  term  it,  was  intimated  in  the  following  manner. 

In  the  middle  of  the  stage  was  placed  Colchester,  and  the  sign  of 
Pigot's  tavern — called  the  Tarlton — intimated  what  part  of  the  town 
was  represented.  The  name  was  painted  above.  On  one  side  of  the 
stage  was,  in  like  manner,  painted  a  town,  which  the  name  announced 
to  be  Maldon ;  on  the  other  side  a  ranger's  lodge.  The  scene  lay 
through  the  piece  in  one  or  other  of  these  three  places,  and  the  en- 
trance of  the  characters  determined  where  each  scene  lay.  If  they 
came  in  from  Colchester,  then  Colchester  was  for  the  time  the  scene 
of  action.  When  that  scene  was  shifted  to  Maldon,  it  was  intimated 
by  the  approach  of  the  actors  from  the  side  where  it  was  painted — a 
clumsy  contrivance,  doubtless,  compared  to  changeable  scenery ;  yet 
sufficient  to  impress  the  audience  with  a  sense  of  what  was  meant. 

September  30. — Wet,  drizzling,  dismal  day.  I  finished  odds  and 
ends,  scarce  stirring  out  of  my  room,  yet  doing  little  to  the  purpose. 
Wrote  to  Sir  Henry  [Seton  Steuart]  about  his  queries  concerning 
transplanted  trees,  and  to  Mr.  Freeling  concerning  the  Roxburghe 
Club  books.  I  have  settled  to  print  the  manuscript  concerning  the 
murder  of  the  two  Shaws  by  the  Master  of  Sinclair.  I  dallied  with 
the  precious  time  rather  than  used  it.  Read  the  two  Roxburghe 
plays ;  they  are  by  William  Percy,  a  son  of  the  eighth  Earl  of  North- 
umberland ;  worthless  and  very  gross,  but  abounding  with  matter 
concerning  scenery,  and  so  forth,  highly  interesting  to  the  dramatic 
antiquary. 

NOTE  on  the  " grenadier  accomplishment"  mentioned  in  p.  294. 

In  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  of  May,  or  not,  and  all  that  he  had  to  do  was  to  go  to 

1818,  Scott  gives  the  following  amusing  account  the  Police  Office  and  tell  the  charge  he  had  to 

of  an  incident  in  the  life  of  the  Ettrick  Shep-  bring  against  the  two  Glasgow  gentlemen.  .  .  . 

herd : —  The  Glaswegians  were  greatly  too  many  for  him 

"  Our  poor  friend  Hogg  has  had  an  affair  oj  [in  Court].  .  .  .  They  returned  in  all  triumph 

honour.  .  .  .  Two  mornings  ago,  about  seven  in  and  glory,  and  Hogg  took  the  wings  of  the 

the  morning,  my  servant  announced,  while  I  morning  and  fled  to  his  cottage  at  Altrive,  not 

was  shaving  in  my  dressing-room,  that  Mr.  deeming  himself  altogether  safe  in  the  streets 

Hogg  wished  earnestly  to  speak  with  me.  He  of  Edinburgh !  Now,  although  I  do  not  hold 

was  ushered  in,  and  I  cannot  describe  the  half-  valour  to  be  an  essential  article  in  the  compo- 

startled,  half-  humorous  air  with  which  he  sition  of  a  man  like  Hogg,  yet  I  heartily  wish 

said,  scratching  his  head  most  vehemently,  he  could  have  prevailed  on  himself  to  swag- 

'Odd,  Scott,  here's  twae  fo'k's  come  frae  Glas-  ger  a  little.  .  .  .  But  considering  his  failure  in 

gow  to  provoke  mey  to  fecht  a  duel.'  'A  duel,'  the  field  and  the  Sherift  Office,  I  am  afraid 

answered  I,  in  great  astonishment,  'and  what  we  must  apply  to  Hogg  the  apology  which  is 

do  you  intend  to  do?'  '  Odd,  I  just  locket  them  made  for  Waller  by  his  biographer:  'Let  us 

up  in  my  room  and  sent  the  lassie  for  twae  o'  not  condemn  him  with  untempered  severity 

the  police,  and  just  gie'd  the  men  ower  to  their  because  he  was  not  such  a  prodigy  as  the 

chairge,  and  I  thocht  I  wad  come  and  ask  you  world  has  seldom  seen — because  his  character 

what  I  should  do.  .  .  .'  He  had  already  settled  included  not  the  poet,  the  orator,  and  the 

for  himself  the  question  whether  he  was  to  fight  hero. '  " 


OCTOBER 

October  1. — I  set  about  work  for  two  hours,  and  finished  three 
pages  ;  then  walked  for  two  hours  ;  then  home,  adjusted  sheriff  proc- 
esses, and  cleared  the  table.  I  am  to  set  off  to-morrow  for  Ravens- 
worth  Castle,  to  meet  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ;'  a  great  let  off,  I  sup- 
pose. Yet  I  would  almost  rather  stay  and  see  two  days  more  of 
Lockhart  and  my  daughter,  who  will  be  off  before  my  return.  Per- 
haps. But  there  is  no  end  to  perhaps.  We  must  cut  the  rope  and 
let'  the  vessel  drive  down  the  tide  of  destiny. 

October  2. — Set  out  in  the  morning  at  seven,  and  reached  Kelso 
by  a  little  past  ten  with  my  own  horses.  Then  took  the  Wellington 
coach  to  carry  me  to  Wellington — smart  that.  Nobody  inside  but 
an  old  lady,  who  proved  a  toy-woman  in  Edinburgh  ;  her  head  fur- 
nished with  as  substantial  ware  as  her  shop,  but  a  good  soul,  I'se 
warrant  her.  Heard  all  her  debates  with  her  landlord  about  a  new 
door  to  the  cellar,  etc.,  etc.;  propriety  of  paying  rent  on  the  15th 
or  25th  of  May.  Landlords  and  tenants  have  different  opinions  on 
that  subject.  Danger  of  dirty  sheets  in  inns.  We  dined  at  Wooler, 
and  I  found  out  Dr.  Douglas  on  the  outside,  son  of  my  old  acquaint- 
ance Dr.  James  Douglas  of  Kelso.  This  made  us  even  lighter  in 
mind  till  we  came  to  Whittingham.  Thence  to  Newcastle,  where  an 
obstreperous  horse  retarded  us  for  an  hour  at  least,  to  the  great 
alarm  of  my  friend  the  toy-woman.  N.B. — She  would  have  made  a 
good  feather-bed  if  the  carriage  had  happened  to  fall,  and  her  under- 
most. The  heavy  roads  had  retarded  us  near  an  hour  more,  so  that 
I  hesitated  to  go  to  Ravensworth  so  late  ;  but  my  good  woman's 
tales  of  dirty  sheets,  and  certain  recollections  of  a  Newcastle  inn,  in- 
duced me  to  go  on.  When  I  arrived  the  family  had  just  retired. 
Lord  Ravensworth  and  Mr.  Liddell  came  down,  however,  and  really 
received  me  as  kindly  as  possible. 

October  3. — Rose  about  eight  or  later.  My  morals  begin  to  be 
corrupted  by  travelling  and  fine  company.  Went  to  Durham  with 
Lord  Ravensworth  betwixt  one  and  two.  Found  the  gentlemen  of 

1  "The  Duke  was  then  making  a  progress  under  the  new  Premier,  gaining  ground  every 
in  the  North  of  England,  to  which  additional  day.  Sir  Walter,  who  felt  for  the  great  Cap- 
importance  was  given  by  the  uncertain  state  tain  the  pure  and  exalted  devotion  that  might 
of  political  arrangements;  the  chance  of  Lord  have  been  expected  from  some  honoured  sol- 
Goderich's  being  able  to  maintain  himself  as  dier  of  his  banners,  accepted  this  invitation, 
Canning's  successor  seeming  very  precarious,  and  witnessed  a  scene  of  enthusiasm  with 
and  the  opinion  that  his  Grace  must  soon  be  which  its  principal  object  could  hardly  have 
called  to  a  higher  station  than  that  of  Com-  been  more  gratified  than  he  was." — Life,  voL 
mander  of  the  Forces,  which  he  had  accepted  ix.  pp.  156-7. 


302  JOURNAL  [Ocr. 

Durham  county  and  town  assembled  to  receive  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton. I  saw  several  old  friends,  and  with  difficulty  suited  names  to 
faces,  and  faces  to  names.  There  was  Headlam,  Dr.  Gilly  and  his 
wife,  and  a  world  of  acquaintance  besides,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  too, 
with  Lord  Londonderry.  I  asked  him  to  come  on  with  me,  but  he 
could  not.  He  is,  from  habit  of  coaxing  his  subjects  I  suppose, 
a  little  too  fair-spoken,  otherwise  very  pleasant.  The  Duke  arrived 
very  late.  There  were  bells  and  cannon  and  drums,  trumpets  and 
banners,  besides  a  fine  troop  of  yeomanry.  The  address  was  well 
expressed,  and  as  well  answered  by  the  Duke.  The  enthusiasm  of 
the  ladies  and  the  gentry  was  great — the  common  people  were  luke- 
warm.1 The  Duke  has  lost  popularity  in  accepting  political  power. 
He  will  be  more  useful  to  his  country  it  may  be  than  ever,  but  will 
scarce  be  so  gracious  in  the  people's  eyes;  and  he  will  not  care  a 
curse  for  what  outward  show  he  has  .lost.  But  I  must  not  talk  of 
curses,  for  we  are  going  to  take  our  dinner  with  the  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham," a  man  of  amiable  and  courteous  manners,  who  becomes  his 
station  well,  but  has  traces  of  bad  health  on  his  countenance. 

We  dined,  about  one  hundred  and  forty  or  fifty  men,  a  distin- 

fuished  company  for  rank  and  property.    Marshal  Beresford,  and  Sir 
ohn,"  amongst  others,  Marquis  of  Lothian,  Lord  Duncombe,  Marquis 
Londonderry,  and  I  know  not  who  besides  : 

"Lords  and  Dukes  and  noble  Princes, 
All  the  pride  and  flower  of  Spain." 

We  dined  in  the  rude  old  baronial  hall,  impressive  from  its  an- 
tiquity, and  fortunately  free  from  the  plaster  of  former  improvement, 
as  I  trust  it  will,  from  the  gingerbread  taste  of  modern  Gothicisers. 
The  bright  moon  streaming  in  through  the  old  Gothic  windows,  made 
a  light  which  contrasted  strangely  with  the  artificial  lights  within ; 
spears,  banners,  and  armour  were  intermixed  with  the  pictures  of  old, 
and  the  whole  had  a  singular  mixture  of  baronial  pomp  with  the 
graver  and  more  chastened  dignity  of  prelacy.  The  conduct  of  our 
reverend  entertainer  suited  the  character  remarkably  well.  Amid  the 
welcome  of  a  Count  Palatine  he  did  not  for  an  instant  forget  the 
gravity  of  the  Church  dignitary.  All  his  toasts  were  gracefully  given, 
and  his  little  speeches  well  made,  and  the  more  affecting  that  the  fail- 
ing voice  sometimes  reminded  us  that  our  aged  host  laboured  under 
the  infirmities  of  advanced  life.  To  me  personally  the  Bishop  was 
very  civil,  and  paid  me  his  public  compliments  by  proposing  my  health 
in  the  most  gratifying  manner.4 

'  See  Correspondence  of  Princess  Lieven  and  of  each  other — "and  merry  men  were  they." 

Earl  Grey  for  Lord  Grey's  opinion,  vol.  i.  p.  60.  — J.  G.  L. 

9  Dr.  William  Van  Mildert  had  been  appoint-  «  An  eye-witness  writes:— "The  manner  in 

ed  to  the  See  of  Durham  in  1826  on  the  death  which  Bishop  Van  Mildert  proceeded  on  this 

of  Dr.  Shute  Harrington.  He  died  in  1836.  occasion  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who 

*  Admiral  Sir  John  Breresford  had  some  few  know  how  to  appreciate  scholarship  without 

years  before  this  commanded  on  the  Leith  Sta-  podantry,  and  dignity  without  ostentation, 

tion— when  Sir  Walter  and  he  saw  a  great  deal  Sir  Walter  had  been  observed  throughout  the 


1827.]  JOURNAL  803 

The  Bishop's  lady  received  a  sort  of  drawing-room  after  we  rose 
from  table,  at  which  a  great  many  ladies  attended.  I  ought  not  to 
forget  that  the  singers  of  the  choir  attended  at  dinner,  and  sung  the 
Anthem  Non  nobis  Domine,  as  they  said  who  understood  them,  very 
well — and,  as  I  think,  who  did  not  understand  the  music,  with  an  un- 
usual degree  of  spirit  and  interest.  It  is  odd  how  this  can  be  distin- 
guished from  the  notes  of  fellows  who  use  their  throats  with  as  little 
feeling  of  the  notes  they  utter  as  if  they  were  composed  of  the  same 
metal  as  their  bugle-horns. 

After  the  drawing-room  we  went  to  the  Assembly-rooms,  which 
were  crowded  with  company.  I  saw  some  very  pretty  girls  dancing 
merrily  that  old-fashioned  thing  called  a  country-dance  which  Old 
England  has  now  thrown  aside,  as  she  would  do  her  creed,  if  there 
were  some  foreign  frippery  offered  instead.  We  got  away  after  mid- 
night, a  large  party,  and  reached  Ravensworth  Castle — Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, Lord  Londonderry,  and  about  twenty  besides — about  half- 
past  one.  Soda  water,  and  to  bed  by  two. 

October  4. — Slept  till  nigh  ten — fatigued  by  our  toils  of  yester- 
day, and  the  unwonted  late  hours.  Still  too  early  for  this  Castle  of 
Indolence,  for  I  found  few  of  last  night's  party  yet  appearing.  I  had 
an  opportunity  of  some  talk  with  the  Duke.  He  does  not  consider 
Foy's  book '  as  written  by  himself,  but  as  a  thing  got  up  perhaps  from 
notes.  Says  he  knew  Foy  very  well  in  Spain.  Mentioned  that  he 
was,  like  other  French  officers,  very  desirous  of  seeing  the  English 
papers,  through  which  alone  they  could  collect  any  idea  of  what  was 
going  on  without  their  own  cantonments,  for  Napoleon  permitted  no 
communication  of  that  kind  with  France.  The  Duke,  growing  tired 
of  this,  at  length  told  Baron  Tripp,  whose  services  he  chiefly  used  in 
communication  with  the  outposts,  that  he  was  not  to  give  them  the 
newspapers.  "  What  reason  shall  I  allege  for  withholding  them  ?" 
said  Baron  Tripp.  "  None,"  replied  the  Duke.  "  Let  them  allege  some 
reason  why  they  want  them."  Foy  was  not  at  a  loss  to  assign  a  rea- 
son. He  said  he  had  considerable  sums  of  money  in  the  English 
funds  and  wanted  to  see  how  Stocks  fell  and  rose.  The  excuse  did 
not,  however,  go  down.2  I  remember  Baron  Tripp,  a  Dutch  noble- 
man, and  a  dandy  of  the  first  water,  and  yet  with  an  energy  in  his 
dandyism  which  made  it  respectable.  He  drove  a  gig  as  far  as  Dun- 
robin  Castle,  and  back  again,  without  a  whip.  He  looked  after  his 
own  horse,  for  he  had  no  servant,  and  after  all  his  little  establishment 
of  clothes  and  necessaries,  with  all  the  accuracy  of  a  petit-maitre.  He 
was  one  of  the  best-dressed  men,  and  his  horse  was  in  equally  fine 

day  with  extraordinary  interest — I  should  say  >  Histoire  de  la  guerre  de  la  Peninsule  tout 
enthusiasm.    The  Bishop  gave  his  health  with  Napoleon,  etc.    Publi^e  par  Madame  la  Corn- 
peculiar  felicity,  remarking  that  he  could  re-  tesseFoy.    Paris,  4  vols.  8vo,  1827.    SeeCroker, 
fleet  upon  the  labours  of  a  long  literary  life  vol.  i.  p.  352. 
with  the  consciousness  that  everything  he  had 

written  tended  to  the  practice  of  virtue,  and  a  This  story  is  told  also  in  Lord  Stanhope's 

to  the  improvement  of  the  human  race." —  Conversations  with   the   Duke  of  Wellington, 

Hon.  Henry  Liddell.    Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  160.  8vo,  London,  1888,  p.  54. 


304  JOURNAL  [OCT. 

condition  as  if  he  had  had  a  dozen  of  grooms.  I  met  him  at  Lord 
Somerville's,  and  liked  him  much.  But  there  was  something  exag- 
gerated, as  appeared  from  the  conclusion  of  his  life.  Baron  Tripp 
shot  himself  in  Italy  for  no  assignable  cause. 

What  is  called  great  society,  of  which  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  in 
my  day,  is  now  amusing  to  me,  because  from  age  and  indifference  I 
have  lost  the  habit  of  considering  myself  as  a  part  of  it,  and  have  only 
the  feelings  of  looking  on  as  a  spectator  of  the  scene,  who  can  neither 
play  his  part  well  nor  ill,  instead  of  being  one  of  the  dramatis  persona?; 
and,  careless  what  is  thought  of  myself,  I  have  full  time  to  attend  to 
the  motions  of  others. 

Our  party  went  to-day  to  Sunderland,  where  the  Duke  was  brill- 
iantly received  by  an  immense  population,  chiefly  of  seamen.  The 
difficulty  of  getting  into  the  rooms  was  dreadful,  for  we  chanced  to 
march  in  the  rear  of  an  immense  Gibraltar  gun,  etc.,  all  composed  of 
glass,  which  is  here  manufactured  in  great  quantities.  The  disturb- 
ance created  by  this  thing,  which  by  the  way  I  never  saw  afterwards, 
occasioned  an  ebbing  and  flowing  of  the  crowd,  which  nearly  took  me 
off  my  legs.  I  have  seen  the  day  I  would  have  minded  it  little.  The 
entertainment  was  handsome  ;  about  two  hundred  dined,  and  appear- 
ed most  hearty  in  the  cause  which  had  convened  them — some  indeed 
so  much  so,  that,  finding  themselves  so  far  on  the  way  to  perfect  hap- 
piness, they  e'en  .  .  .  After  the  dinner-party  broke  up  there  was  a 
ball,  numerously  attended,  where  there  was  a  prodigious  anxiety  dis- 
covered for  shaking  of  hands.  The  Duke  had  enough  of  it,  and  I 
came  in  fbr  my  share ;  for,  though  as  jackal  to  the  lion,  I  got  some 
part  in  whatever  was  going.  We  got  home  about  half-past  two  in  the 
morning,  sufficiently  tired.  The  Duke  went  to  Seaham,  a  house  of 
Lord  Londonderry's.  After  all,  this  Sunderland  trip  might  have  been 
spared. 

October  5. — A  quiet  day  at  Ravensworth  Castle,  giggling  and  mak- 
ing giggle  among  the  kind  and  frank-hearted  young  people.  Ravens- 
worth  Castle  is  chiefly  modern,  excepting  always  two  towers  of  great 
antiquity.  Lord  Ravensworth  manages  his  woods  admirably  well,  and 
with  good  taste.  His  castle  is  but  half-built.  Elections1  have  come 
between.  In  the  evening,  plenty  of  fine  music,  with  heart  as  well  as 
voice  and  instrument.  Much  of  the  music  was  the  spontaneous  effu- 
sions of  Mrs.  Arkwright,  who  had  set  Hohenlinden  and  other  pieces 
of  poetry.  Her  music  was  of  a  highly-gifted  character.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Stephen  Kemble.  The  genius  she  must  have  inherited 
from  her  mother,  who  was  a  capital  actress.  The  Miss  Liddells  and 
Mrs.  Barrington  sang  the  "  The  Campbells  are  coming,"  in  a  tone 
that  might  have  waked  the  dead. 

October  6. — Left  Ravensworth  this  morning,  and  travelled  as  far 

i  The  present  generation  are  apt  to  forget  the  (Cor.  ii.  p.  215)  that  Lord  Ravensworth's  neigh- 
enormous  sums  spent  in  Parliamentary  elec-  bour,  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  will  sub- 
tions;  e.g.,  Mme.  de  Lieven  tells  Earl  Grey  scribe  £100,000  towards  the  election  of  1831. 


1827.J  JOURNAL  305 

as  Whittingham  with  Marquis  of  Lothian.  Arrived  at  Alnwick  to  din- 
ner, where  I  was  very  kindly  received.  The  Duke  is  a  handsome 
man,1  who  will  be  corpulent  if  he  does  not  continue  to  take  hard  ex- 
ercise. The  Duchess  very  pretty  and  lively,  but  her  liveliness  is  of 
that  kind  which  shows  at  once  it  is  connected  with  thorough  princi- 
ple, and  is  not  liable  to  be  influenced  by  fashionable  caprice.  The 
habits  of  the  family  are  early  and  regular ;  I  conceive  they  may  be 
termed  formal  and  old-fashioned  by  such  visitors  as  claim  to  be  the 
pink  of  the  mode.  The  Castle  is  a  fine  old  pile,  with  various  courts 
and  towers,  and  the  entrance  is  magnificent.  It  wants,  however,  the 
splendid  feature  of  a  keep.  The  inside  fitting  up  is  an  attempt  at 
Gothic,  but  the  taste  is  meagre  and  poor,  and  done  over  with  too 
much  gilding.  -It  was  done  half  a  century  ago,  when  this  kind  of 
taste  was  ill-understood.  I  found  here  the  Bishop  of  [Gloucester], 
etc.,  etc. 

October  7. — This  morning  went  to  church  and  heard  an  excellent 
sermon  from  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester;3  he  has  great  dignity  of 
manner,  and  his  accent  and  delivery  were  forcible.  Drove  out  with 
the  Duke  in  a  phaeton,  and  saw  part  of  the  park,  which  is  a  fine  one, 
lying  along  the  Alne.  But  it  has  been  ill-planted.  It  was  laid  out 
by  the  celebrated  Brown,3  who  substituted  clumps  of  birch  and  Scot- 
tish firs  for  the  beautiful  oaks  and  copse  which  grows  nowhere  so 
freely  as  in  Northumberland.  To  complete  this,  the  late  Duke  did 
not  thin,  so  the  wood  is  in  poor  state.  All  that  the  Duke  cuts  down 
is  so  much  waste,  for  the  people  will  not  buy  it  where  coals  are  so 
cheap.  Had  they  been  oak-wood,  the  bark  would  have  fetched  its 
value ;  had  they  been  grown  oaks,  the  sea-ports  would  have  found  a 
market.  Had  they  been  [larch],  the  country  demands  for  ruder  pur- 
poses would  have  been  unanswerable.  The  Duke  does  the  best  he 
can  to  retrieve  his  woods,  but  seems  to  despond  more  than  a  young 
man  ought  to  do.  It  is  refreshing  to  see  a  man  in  his  situation  give 
so  much  of  his  time  and  thoughts  to  the  improvement  of  his  estates, 
and  the  welfare  of  the  people.  The  Duke  tells  me  his  people  in  Keel- 
dar  were  all  quite  wild  the  first  time  his  father  went  up  to  shoot  there. 
The  women  had  no  other  dress  than  a  bed-gown  and  petticoat.  The 
men  were  savage  and  could  hardly  be  brought  to  rise  from  the  heath, 
either  from  sullenness  or  fear.  They  sung  a  wild  tune,  the  burden  of 
which  was  Ourina,  ourina,  ourina.  The  females  sung,  the  men  danced 
round,  and  at  a  certain  part  of  the  tune  they  drew  their  dirks,  which 
they  always  wore. 

We  came  by  the  remains  of  the  old  Carmelite  Monastery  of 
Hulne,  which  is  a  very  fine  object  in  the  park.  It  was  finished  by 
De  Vesci.  The  gateway  of  Alnwick  Abbey,  also  a  fine  specimen,  is 
standing  about  a  mile  distant.  The  trees  are  much  finer  on  the  left 

1  Hugh,  third  Duke  of  Northumberland.  Duke  of  Northumberland,  held  at  this  time 

the  See  for  Gloucester. — j.  o.  L. 
a  Dr.   Bcthell,  who  had  been  tutor  to   the          3  Launcelot  Brown,  1715-1782. 

20 


306  JOURNAL  [Oci. 

side  of  the  Alne,  where  they  have  been  let  alone  by  the  capability- 
villain.  Visited  the  enceinte  of  the  Castle,  and  passed  into  the  dun- 
geon. There  is  also  an  armoury,  but  damp,  and  the  arms  in  indif- 
ferent order.  One  odd  petard-looking  thing  struck  me. — Mem.  to 
consult  Grose.  I  had  the  honour  to  sit  in  Hotspur's  seat,  and  to  see 
the  Bloody  Gap,  where  the  external  wall  must  have  been  breached. 
The  Duchess  gave  me  a  book  of  etchings  of  the  antiquities  of  Aln- 
"wick  and  Warkworth  from  her  own  drawings.1  I  had  half  a  mind 
to  stay  to  see  Warkworth,  but  Anne  is  alone.  We  had  prayers  in  the 
evening  read  by  the  Archdeacon.11 

The  Marquis  of  Lothian  on  Saturday  last  told  me  a  remarkable 
thing,  which  he  had  from  good  authority.  Just  before  Bonaparte's 
return  from  Elba  there  was  much  disunion  at  the  Congress  of  Vienna. 
Russia  and  Prussia,  conscious  of  their  own  merits,  made  great  de- 
mands, to  which  Austria,  France,  and  Britain  were  not  disposed  to  ac- 
cede. This  went  so  far  that  war  became  probable,  and  the  very 
Prussian  army  which  was  so  useful  at  Waterloo  was  held  in  readiness 
to  attack  the  English.  On  the  other  hand,  England,  Austria,  and 
France  entered  into  a  private  agreement  to  resist,  beyond  a  certain 
extent,  Prussia's  demands  of  a  barrier  on  the  Rhine,  etc.,  and,  what 
is  most  singular  of  all,  it  was  from  Bonaparte  that  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander first  heard  of  this  triple  alliance.9  But  the  circumstance  of 
finding  Napoleon  interesting  himself  so  far  in  the  affairs  of  Europe 
alarmed  the  Emperor  more  than  the  news  he  sent  him.  On  the  same 
authority,  Gneisenau  and  most  of  Bliicher's  personal  suite  remained 
behind  a  house  at  the  battle  of  Ligny,  and  sent  out  an  officer  frorr^ 
time  to  time,  but  did  not  remain  even  in  sight  of  the  battle,  till  Blu- 
cher  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  cavalry  with  the  zeal  of  an  old 
hussar. 

October  8. — Left  Alnwick,  where  I  have  experienced  a  very  kind 
reception,  and  took  coach  at  Whittingham  at  eleven  o'clock.  I  find 
there  is  a  new  road  to  be  made  between  Alnwick  and  Wooler,  which 
will  make  the  communication  much  easier,  and  avoid  Remside  Moor. 

Saw  some  fine  young  plantations  about  Whittingham  suffering 
from  neglect,  which  is  not  the  case  under  the  Duke's  own  eye.  He 
has  made  two  neat  cottages  at  Percy's  Cross,  to  preserve  that  ancient 
monument  of  the  fatal  battle  of  Hedgeley  Moor.  The  stones  mark- 
ing the  adjacent  spot  called  Percy's  Leap  are  thirty-three  feet  asun- 
der. To  show  the  uncertainty  of  human  testimony,  I  measured  the 
distance  (many  years  since,  it  is  true),  and  would  have  said  and  al- 
most sworn  that  it  was  but  eighteen  feet.  Dined  at  Wooler,  and 
reached  home  about  seven  o'clock,  having  left  Alnwick  at  half-past 
nine.  So  it  would  be  easy  to  go  there  to  dinner  from  Abbotsford, 
starting  at  six  in  the  morning,  or  seven  would  do  very  well. 

i  A  quarto  volume,  containing  39  etchings          a  Mr.  Archdeacon  Singleton.— j.  G.  L. 
(privately  printed  in  1823),  still  preserved  at          *  Stanhope's  Notes,  p.  24;  andCrofcer,  vol.  ii. 
Abbotsford.  p.  233. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  807 

October  Q,\AbbotsforcQ. — No  proofs  here,  which  I  think  odd  of 
Jas.  B.  But  I  am  not  sorry  to  have  a  day  to  write  letters,  and  be- 
sides I  have  a  box  of  books  to  arrange.  It  is  a  bad  mizzling  day, 
and  might  have  been  a  good  day  for  work,  yet  it  is  not  quite  uselessly 
spent. 

October  10. — Breakfasted  at  Huntly  Burn  with  the  merry  knight, 
Sir  Adam  Ferguson.  When  we  returned  we  found  a  whole  parcel  of 
proofs  which  had  been  forgot  yesterday  at  the  toll — so  here  ends 
play  and  begins  work.  Dr.  Brewster  and  Mr.  Thornhill.  The  latter 
gave  me  a  box,  made  of  the  real  mulberry -tree.1  Very  kind  of  him. 

October  11. — Being  a  base  melancholy  weeping  day  I  e'en  made 
the  best  of  it,  and  set  in  for  work.  Wrote  ten  leaves  this  day,  equiv- 
alent to  forty  plages.  But  then  the  theme  was  so  familiar,  being 
Scottish  history,  that  my  pen  never  rested.  It  is  more  than  a  triple 
task. 

October  12. — Sent  off  proofs  and  copy,  a  full  task  of  three  pages. 
At  one  Anne  drove  me  to  Huntly  Burn,  and  I  examined  the  earthen 
fence  intended  for  the  new  planting,  and  altered  the  line  in  some 
points.  This  employed  me  till  near  four,  the  time  of  my  walking 
home  being  included. 

October  13. — Wrote  in  the  forenoon.  Lord  Bessborough  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ponsonby  called  to  see  the  place.  His  lady  used  to 
be  civil  to  me  in  London — an  accomplished  and  pleasing  woman. 
They  only  stayed  an  hour.  At  dinner  we  had  Lord  and  Lady  Bath- 
urst,  and  my  friend  Lady  Georgiana — also  Marquis  of  Lothian  and 
Lord  Castlereagh,  plenty  of  fine  folks.  Expected  also  the  Lord  Reg- 
ister and  Mrs.  Dundas,  but  they  could  not  come.  Lord  Bathurst  told 
me  that  Gourgaud  had  negotiated  with  the  French  Government  to  the 
last  moment  of  his  leaving  London,  and  that  he  had  been  told  so  by 
the  French  Ambassador.  Lord  B.  refused  to  see  him,  because  he  un- 
derstood he  talked  disrespectfully  of  Napoleon. 

October  14. — I  read  prayers  to  the  company  of  yesterday,  and  we 
took  a  drive  round  by  Drygrange  Bridge.  Lord  B.  told  me  that  the 
late  king  made  it  at  one  time  a  point  of  conscience  to  read  every 
word  of  every  act  of  parliament  before  giving  his  assent  to  it.  There 
was  a  mixture  of  principle  and  nonsense  in  this.  Lord  Lothian  left 
us.  I  did  a  full  task  to-day,  which  is  much,  considering  I  was  a  good 
deal  occupied. 

October  15.  —  My  noble  guests  departed,  pleased  I  believe  with 
their  visit.  I  have  had  to  thank  Lord  Bathurst  for  former  kindness. 
I  respect  him  too,  as  one  who  being  far  from  rich,  has  on  the  late  oc- 
casion preferred  political  consistency  to  a  love  of  office  and  its  emol- 
uments. He  seems  to  expect  no  opposition  of  a  formal  kind  this 
next  session.  What  is  wonderful,  no  young  man  of  talents  seems  to 
spring  up  in  the  House  of  Commons.  I  wonder  what  comes  of  all 

1  From  Stratford-on-Avon. 


308  JOURNAL  [Ocr. 

the  clever  lads  whom  we  see  at  college.  The  fruit  apparently  does 
not  ripen  as  formerly.  Lord  Castlereagh  remained  with  us.  I  be- 
stowed a  little  advice  on  him.  He  is  a  warm-hearted  young  fellow, 
with  some  of  the  fashionable  affectations  of  the  age  about  him,  but 
with  good  feelings  and  an  inclination  to  come  forward. 

October  16. — With  all  this  racketing  the  work  advances  fast.  The 
third  volume  of  the  Tales  is  now  half  finished,  and  will,  I  think,  be  a 
useful  work.  Some  drizzling  days  have  been  of  great  use  to  its  prog- 
ress. This  visiting  has  made  some  dawdling,  but  not  much,  per- 
haps not  more  than  there  ought  to  be  for  such  a  task. 

I  walked  from  Huntly  Burn  up  the  little  Glen,  which  was  in  all 
the  melancholy  beauty  of  autumn,  the  little  brook  brawling  and  bick- 
ering in  fine  style  over  its  falls  and  currents. 

October  17. — Drove  down  to  Mertoun  and  brought  up  Elizabeth 
Scott  to  be  our  guest  for  some  days  or  so.  Various  chance  guests 
arrived.  One  of  the  most  welcome  was  Captain  MacKenzie  of  the 
Celtic  Society  and  the  72d  regiment,  a  picture  of  a  Highlander  in  his 
gigantic  person  and  innocent  and  generous  disposition.  Poor  fellow, 
he  is  going  to  retreat  to  Brittany,  to  make  his  half-pay  support  a 
wife  and  family.  I  did  not  dare  to  ask  how  many.  God  send  I 
may  have  the  means  of  serving  him. 

He  told  me  a  Maclean  story  which  was  new  to  me.  At  the  bat- 
tle of  Sheriffmuir  that  clan  was  commanded  by  a  chief  called  Hector. 
In  the  action,  as  the  chief  rushed  forward,  he  was  frequently  in  situ- 
ations of  peril.  His  foster-father  followed  him  with  seven  sons, 
whom  he  reserved  as  a  body-guard,  whom  he  threw  forward  into  the 
battle  as  he  saw  his  chief  pressed.  The  signal  he  gave  was,  "  Another 
for  Hector !"  The  youths  replied,  "  Death  for  Hector !"  and  were  all 
successively  killed.  These  words  make  the  sign  and  countersign  at 
this  day  of  the  clan  Gillian.1 

Young  Shortreed  dined  with  us  and  the  two  Fergusons,  Sir  Adam 
and  the  Colonel.  We  had  a  pleasant  evening. 

October  19. — Wrought  out  my  task,  and  better — as  I  have  done 
for  these  several  days  past.  Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot  arrived  unex- 
pectedly to  dinner,  and  though  she  had  a  headache,  brought  her  usual 
wit  and  good-humour  to  enliven  us. 

October  20. — The  day  being  basely  muggy,  I  had  no  walk,  which 
I  was  rather  desirous  to  secure.  I  wrought,  however ;  and  two-thirds 
of  the  last  volume  of  Tales  of  my  Grandfather  are  finished.  I  re- 
ceived a  large  packet  of  proofs,  etc.,  which  for  some  reason  had  been 
delayed.  We  had  two  of  Dr.  Brewster's  boys  to  dinner — fine  chil- 
dren ;  they  are  spirited,  promising,  and  very  well-behaved. 

October  21. — Wrought  till  one  o'clock,  then  walked  out  for  two 
hours,  though  with  little  comfort,  the  bushes  being  loaded  with  rain ; 
but  exercise  is  very  necessary  to  me,  and  I  have  no  mind  to  die  of 

i  For  the  utilization  of  this  story,  see  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,  published  iu  the  following  year. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  300 

my  arm-chair.  A  letter  from  Skene,  acquainting  me  that  the  Censors 
of  the  French  press  have  prohibited  the  insertion  of  my  answer  to  the 
man  Gourgaud.  This  is  their  freedom  of  the  press !  The  fact  is 
there  is  an  awkward  "  composition "  between  the  Government  and 
the  people  of  France,  that  the  latter  will  endure  the  former  so  long  as 
they  will  allow  them  to  lull  themselves  asleep  with  the  recollections 
of  their  past  glory,  and  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  sees  that  truth 
and  honesty  and  freedom  of  discussion  are  the  best  policy.  He 
knows,  though,  there  is  an  answer ;  and  that  is  all  I  care  about. 

October  22. — Another  vile  damp  drizzling  day.  I  do  not  know 
any  morning  in  my  life  so  fit  for  work,  on  which  I  nevertheless,  while 
desirous  of  employing  it  to  purpose,  make  less  progress.  A  hang- 
dog drowsy  feeling  wrought  against  me,  and  I  was  obliged  to  lay 
down  the  pen  and  indulge  myself  in  a  drumly  sleep. 

The  Haigs  of  Bemerside,  Captain  Hamilton,  Mr.  Bainbridge  and 
daughter,  with  young  Nicol  Milne  and  the  Fergusons,  dined  here. 
Miss  Haig  sings  Italian  music  better  than  any  person  I  ever  heard 
out  of  the  Opera-house.  But  I  am  neither  a  judge  nor  admirer  of 
the  science.  I  do  not  know  exactly  what  is  aimed  at,  and  therefore 
cannot  tell  what  is  attained.  Had  a  letter  from  Colin  Mackenzie, 
who  has  proposed  himself  for  the  little  situation  in  the  Register 
House.  I  have  written  him,  begging  him  to  use  the  best  interest  in 
his  own  behalf,  and  never  mind  me. 

October  23. — Another  sullen  rainy  day.  "  Hazy  weather,  Mr. 
Noah,"  as  Punch  says  in  the  puppet-show.1  I  worked  slow,  how- 
ever, and  untowardly,  and  fell  one  leaf  short  of  my  task. 

Went  to  Selkirk,  and  dined  with  the  Forest  Club,  for  the  first 
time  I  have  been  there  this  season.  It  was  the  collar-day,  but  being 
extremely  rainy,  I  did  not  go  to  see  them  course.  N.B. — Of  all 
things,  the  greatest  bore  is  to  hear  a  dull  and  bashful  man  sing  a  face- 
tious song. 

October  24. — Vilely  low  in  spirits.  I  have  written  a  page  and  a 
half,  and  doubt  whether  I  can  write  more  to-day.  A  thick  throbbing 
at  my  heart,  and  fancies  thronging  on  me.  A  disposition  to  sleep,  or 
to  think  on  things  melancholy  and  horrible  while  I  wake.  Strange 
that  one's  nerves  should  thus  master  them,  for  nervous  the  case  is, 
as  I  know  too  well.  I  am  beginning  to  tire  of  my  Journal,  and  no 
wonder,  faith,  if  I  have  only  such  trash  as  this  to  record.  But  the 
best  is,  a  little  exertion  or  a  change  of  the  current  of  thought  relieves 
me. 

God,  who  subjects  us  to  these  strange  maladies,  whether  of  mind 
or  body  I  cannot  say,  has  placed  the  power  within  our  own  reach, 
and  we  should  be  grateful.  I  wrestled  myself  so  far  out  of  the 
Slough  of  Despond  as  to  take  a  good  long  walk,  and  my  mind  is  re- 


i  See  M.  G.  Lewis's  Journal  of  a  West  Indian  Proprietor.    8vo,  Lond.  1834,  p.  47 :  and  Introduc- 
tion to  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,  p.  16. 


810  JOURNAL  [OCT. 

stored  to  its  elasticity.  I  did  not  attempt  to  work,  especially  as  we 
were  going  down  to  Mertoun,  and  set  off  at  five  o'clock. 

October  25. — We  arrived  at  Mertoun  yesterday,  and  heard  with 
some  surprise  that  George  had  gone  up  in  an  air  balloon,  and  ascend- 
ed two  miles  and  a  half  above  this  sublunary  earth.  I  should  like  to 
have  an  account  of  his  sensations,  but  his  letters  said  nothing  serious 
about  them.  Honest  George,  I  certainly  did  not  suspect  him  of  being 
so  flighty  !  I  visited  the  new  plantations  on  the  river-side  with  Mrs. 
Scott ;  I  wish  her  lord  and  master  had  some  of  her  taste  for  plant- 
ing. When  I  came  home  I  walked  through  the  Rhymer's  Glen,  and 
I  thought  how  the  little  fall  would  look  if  it  were  heightened.  When 
I  came  home  a  surprise  amounting  nearly  to  a  shock  reached  me 
in  another  letter  from  L.  J.  S.1  Methinks  this  explains  the  gloom 
which  hung  about  me  yesterday.  I  own  that  the  recurrence  to  these 
matters  seems  like  a  summons  from  the  grave.  It  fascinates  me.  I 
ought  perhaps  to  have  stopped  it  at  once,  but  I  have  not  nerve  to  do 
so.  Alas !  alas  ! — But  why  alas  ?  Humana  perpessi  sumus. 

October  26. — Sent  off  copy  to  Ballantyne.  Drove  over  to  Huntly 
Burn  at  breakfast,  and  walked  up  to  the  dike  they  are  building  for 
the  new  plantation.  Returned  home.  The  Fergusons  dined ;  and  we 
had  the  kirn  Supper.8  I  never  saw  a  set  of  finer  lads  and  lasses,  and 
blithely  did  they  ply  their  heels  till  five  in  the  morning.  It  did  me 
good  to  see  them,  poor  things. 

October  27. — This  morning  went  again  to  Huntly  Burn  to  break- 
fast. There  picked  up  Sir  Adam  and  the  Colonel,  and  drove  down 
to  old  Melrose  to  see  the  hounds  cast  off  upon  the  Gateheugh,  the 
high  rocky  amphitheatre  which  encloses  the  peninsula  of  old  Mel- 
rose,  the  Tweed  pouring  its  dark  and  powerful  current  between  them. 
The  gallopiug  of  the  riders  and  hallooing  of  the  huntsmen,  the  cry  of 
the  hounds  and  the  sight  of  sly  Reynard  stealing  away  through  the 
brakes,  waked  something  of  the  old  spirit  within  me — 

"Even  in  our  ashes  glow  their  wonted  fires." 

>  On  the  13th  of  October  Sir  Walter  had  re-  out  a  drawback  or  misconstruction  of  nay  In- 

ceived  a  letter  from  "one  who  had  in  former  structions;" 

happy  days  been  no  stranger,"  and  on  turning  rf   h      HH 
to  the  signature  he  found  to  his  astonishment 

that  it  was  from  Lady  Jane  Stuart,  with  whom  "  Were  I  to  lay  open  my  heart  (of  which  you 

he  had  had  no  communication  since  the  mem-  know  little  indeed)  you  will  Bnd  how  it  has  and 

orable  visit  he  had  made  to  Inverraay  in  the  ever  shall  be  warm  towards  you.     My  age  [she 

autumn  of  1796.    The  letter  was  simply  a  for-  was  then  seventy-four]  encourages  me,  and  I 

mal  request  on  behalf  of  a  friend  for  permission  have  longed  to  tell  you.    Not  the  mother  who 

to  print  some  ballads  in  Scott's  handwriting  bore  you  followed  you  more  anxiously  (though 

which  were  in  an  album  that  had  apparently  secretly)  with  her  blessing  than  I !    Age  baa 

belonged  to  her  daughter,  yet  it  stirred  his  tales  to  tell  and  sorrows  to  unfold. " 

nature  to  its  depths.  As  J8  8een  Dy  his  Journal  Sir  Walter  resumed 

1  he  substance  of  his  reply  may  be  gathered  nis  personal   intercourse  with  his  venerable 

from  the  second  letter,  which  he  had  just  read  frjend  on  November  6th  and  continued  it  until 

before  making  this  sad  entry  in  his  Journal.—  her  deata  which  took  place  in  the  winter  of 

Lady  Jane  tells  him  that  she  would  convey  to  18;j9  _  ^n(e  p  265  and  Life  vol.  i.  pp  329- 

him  the  Manuscript  Book  336 

— "  as  a  secret  and  sacred  Treasure,  could  I  but  *  Kirn,  the  feast  at  the  end  of  the  harvest  in 

know  that  you  would  take  it  as  I  give  it  with-  Scotland. 


1827.J  JOURNAL  311 

On  return  home  I  had  despatches  of  consequence.  John  Gibson  writes 
that  Lord  Newton  has  decided  most  of  the  grand  questions  in  our 
favour.  Good,  that !  Rev.  Mr.  Turner  writes  that  he  is  desirous,  by 
Lord  Londonderry's  consent,  to  place  in  my  hands  a  quantity  of  orig- 
inal papers  concerning  the  public  services  of  the  late  Lord  London- 
derry, with  a  view  to  drawing  up  a  memoir  of  his  life.  Now  this 
task  they  desire  to  transfer  to  me.  It  is  highly  complimentary  ;  and 
there  is  this  of  temptation  in  it,  that  I  should  be  able  to  do  justice 
to  that  ill-requited  statesman  in  those  material  points  which  demand 
the  eternal  gratitude  of  his  country.  But  then  for  me  to  take  this 
matter  up  would  lead  me  too  much  into  the  hackneyed  politics  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  which  odi  et  arceo.  Besides,  I  would  have  to 
study  the  Irish  question,  and  I  detest  study.  Item. — I  might  arrive 
at  conclusions  different  from  those  of  my  Lord  of  Londonderry,  and 
I  have  a  taste  for  expressing  that  which  I  think.  Fourthly,  I  think  it 
is  sinking  myself  into  a  party  writer.  Moreover,  I  should  not  know 
what  to  say  to  the  disputes  with  Canning ;  and,  to  conclude,  I  think 
my  Lord  Londonderry,  if  he  desired  such  a  thing  at  my  hands,  ought 
to  have  written  to  me.  For  all  which  reasons,  good,  bad,  and  indiffer- 
ent, I  will  write  declining  the  undertaking. 

October  28. — Wrote  several  letters,  and  one  to  Mr.  Turner,  declin- 
ing the  task  of  Lord  Castlereagh's  Memoirs,1  with  due  acknowledg- 
ments. Had  his  public  and  European  politics  alone  been  concerned, 
I  would  have  tried  the  task  with  pleasure.  I  wrote  out  my  task  and 
something  more,  corrected  proofs,  and  made  a  handsome  remittance 
of  copy  to  the  press. 

October  31. — Just  as  I  was  merrily  cutting  away  among  my  trees, 
arrives  Mr.  Gibson  with  a  melancholy  look,  and  indeed  the  news  he 
brought  was  shocking  enough.  It  seems  Mr.  Abud,  the  same  Jew 
broker  who  formerly  was  disposed  to  disturb  me  in  London,  has  giv- 
en the  most  positive  orders  to  take  out  diligence  against  me  for  his 
debt  of  £1500.  This  breaks  all  the  measures  we  had  resolved  on,  and 
prevents  the  dividend  from  taking  place,  by  which  many  poor  per- 
sons will  be  great  sufferers.  For  me  the  alternative  will  be  more  pain- 
ful to  my  feelings  than  prejudicial  to  my  interest.  To  take  out  a  se- 
questration and  allow  the  persons  to  take  what  they  can  get  will  be 
the  inevitable  consequence.  This  will  cut  short  my  labour  by  several 
years,  which  I  might  spend  and  spend  in  vain  in  labouring  to  meet 
their  demands.  No  doubt  they  may  in  the  interim  sell  the  liferent  of 
this  place,  with  the  books  and  furniture.  But,  perhaps,  it  may  be  pos- 
sible to  achieve  some  composition  which  may  save  these  articles,  as  I 
would  make  many  sacrifices  for  that  purpose.  Gibson  strongly  ad- 
vises taking  a  sequestration  at  all  events.  But  if  the  creditors  choose 

i  The  correspondence  of  Robert,  second  Mar-  and  Sir  Charles  Stewart,  Second  and  Third 

quis  of  Londonderry,  was  edited  by  his  brother  Marquesses  of  Londonderry.     3  vols.  8vo,  Edin- 

in  1850,  but  there  was  no  memoir  published  burgh,  1861. 
until  Alison  wrote  the  Lives  of  Lord  Castlereagh 


312  JOURNAL  [OCT.  1827. 

to  let  Mr.  Abud  have  his  pound  of  flesh  out  of  the  first  cut,  my  mind 
will  not  be  satisfied  with  the  plan  of  deranging,  for  the  pleasure  of 
disappointing  him,  a  plan  of  payment  to  which  all  the  others  had  con- 
sented. We  will  know  more  on  Saturday,  and  not  sooner.  I  went 
to  Bowhill  with  Sir  Adam  Ferguson  to  dinner,  and  maintained  as 
good  a  countenance  in  the  midst  of  my  perplexities  as  a  man  need 
desire.  It  is  not  bravado ;  I  literally  feel  myself  firm  and  resolute. 


NOVEMBER 

November  1. — I  waked  in  the  night  and  lay  two  hours  in  feverish 
meditation.  This  is  a  tribute  to  natural  feeling.  But  the  air  of  a 
fine  frosty  morning  gave  me  some  elasticity  of  spirit.  It  is  strange 
that  about  a  week  ago  I  was  more  dispirited  for  nothing  at  all  than  I 
am  now  for  perplexities  which  set  at  defiance  my  conjectures  concern- 
ing their  issue.  I  suppose  that  I,  the  Chronicler  of  the  Canongate, 
will  have  to  take  up  my  residence  in  the  Sanctuary1  for  a  week  or  so, 
unless  I  prefer  the  more  airy  residence  of  the  Calton  Jail,  or  a  trip  to 
the  Isle  of  Man.  These  furnish  a  pleasing  choice  of  expedients.  It 
is  to  no  purpose  being  angry  at  Ehud  or  Ahab,  or  whatever  name  he 
delights  in.  He  is  seeking  his  own,  and  thinks  by  these  harsh  meas- 
ures to  render  his  road  to  it  more  speedy.  And  now  I  will  trouble 
myself  no  more  about  the  matter  than  I  can  possibly  help,  which  will 
be  quite  enough  after  all.  Perhaps  something  may  turn  up  better 
for  me  than  I  now  look  for.  Sir  Adam  Ferguson  left  Bowhill  this 
morning  for  Dumfriesshire.  I  returned  to  Abbotsford  to  Anne,  and 
told  her  this  unpleasant  news.  She  stood  it  remarkably  well,  poor 
body. 

November  2. — I  was  a  little  bilious  to-night — no  wonder.  Had 
sundry  letters  without  any  power  of  giving  my  mind  to  answer  them 
— one  about.  Gourgaud  with  his  nonsense.  I  shall  not  trouble  my 
head  more  on  that  score.  Well,  it  is  a  hard  knock  on  the  elbow ;  I 
knew  I  had  a  life  of  labour  before  me,  but  I  was  resolved  to  work 
steadily  ;  now  they  have  treated  me  like  a  recusant  turnspit,  and  put 
in  a  red-hot  cinder  into  the  wheel  alongst  with  [me].  But  of  what 
use  is  philosophy — and  I  have  always  pretended  to  a  little  of  a  prac- 
tical character — if  it  cannot  teach  us  to  do  or  suffer?  The  day  is 
glorious,  yet  I  have  little  will  to  enjoy  it,  but  sit  here  ruminating 
upon  the  difference  and  comparative  merits  of  the  Isle  of  Man  and 
of  the  Abbey.  Small  choice  betwixt  them.  Were  a  twelvemonth 
over,  I  should  perhaps  smile  at  what  makes  me  now  very  serious. 

Smile  ! — No,  that  can  never  be.  My  present  feelings  cannot  be 
recollected  with  cheerfulness ;  but  I  may  drop  a  tear  of  gratitude.  I 
have  finished  my  Tales*  and  have  now  nothing  literary  in  hand.  It 
would  be  an  evil  time  to  begin  anything. 

1  Holyrood  remained  an  asylum  for  civil  2  The  book  was  published  during  November, 
debtors  until  1880,  when  by  the  Act  43  &  44  under  the  following  title,  Chronicles  of  the  Can- 
Victoria,  cap.  34,  imprisonment  for  debt  was  ongate  (First  Series).  By  the  author  of  Waver- 
abolished.  For  description  of  bounds  see  Chron-  ley,  etc. — sic  ITUR  AD  ASTRA,  motto  of  Canon- 
iclesofthe  Canongate,  p.  7.  (vol.  xli.).  gate  arms.  In  two  vols.  The  Two  Drover*, 


314  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

November  3. — Slept  ill,  and  lay  one  hour  longer  than  usual  in  the 
morning.  I  gained  an  hour's  quiet  by  it,  that  is  much.  I  feel  a  lit- 
tle shaken  at  the  result  of  to-day's  post.  Bad  it  must  be,  whatsoever 
be  the  alternative.  I  am  not  able  to  go  out,  my  poor  workers  wonder 
that  I  pass  them  without  a  word.  I  can  imagine  no  alternative  but 
either  retreat  to  the  Sanctuary  or  to  the  Isle  of  Man.  Both  shock- 
ing enough.  But  in  Edinburgh  I  am  always  near  the  scene  of  action, 
free  from  uncertainty  and  near  my  poor  daughter  ;  so  I  think  I  will 
prefer  it,  and  thus  I  rest  in  unrest.  But  I  will  not  let  this  unman  me. 
Our  hope,  heavenly  and  earthly,  is  poorly  anchored,  if  the  cable  parts 
upon  the  strain.  I  believe  in  God  who  can  change  evil  into  good  ; 
and  I  am  confident  that  what  befalls  us  is  always  ultimately  for  the 
best.  I  have  a  letter  from  Mr.  Gibson,  purporting  the  opinion  of  the 
trustees  and  committee  of  creditors,  that  I  should  come  to  town,  and 
interesting  themselves  warmly  in  the  matter.  They  have  intimated 
that  they  will  pay  Mr.  Abud  a  composition  of  six  shillings  per  pound 
on  his  debt.  This  is  a  handsome  offer,  but  I  understand  he  is  deter- 
mined to  have  his  pound  of  flesh.  If  I  can  prevent  it,  he  shall  not 
take  a  shilling  by  his  hard-hearted  conduct. 

November  4. — Put  my  papers  in  some  order,  and  prepared  for  my 
journey.  It  is  in  the  style  of  the  Emperors  of  Abyssinia  who  pro- 
claim— Cut  down  the  Kantuffa  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  world, — for 
I  know  not  where  I  am  going.  Yet,  were  it  not  for  poor  Anne's 
doleful  looks,  I  would  feel  as  firm  as  a  piece  of  granite.  Even  the 
poor  dogs  seem  to  fawn  on  me  with  anxious  meaning,  as  if  there 
were  something  going  on  they  could  not  comprehend.  They  probably 
notice  the  packing  of  the  clothes,  and  other  symptoms  of  a  journey. 

Set  off  at  twelve,  firmly  resolved  in  body  and  in  mind.  Dined  at 
Fushie  Bridge.  Ah  !  good  Mrs.  Wilson,  you  know  not  you  are  like 
to  lose  an  old  customer.1 

But  when  I  arrived  in  Edinburgh  at  my  faithful  friend,  Mr.  Gib- 
son's, lo !  the  scene  had  again  changed,  and  a  new  hare  is  started.8 

The  Highland  Widow.  The  Surgeon1!  Daughter.  '  Mrs.  Wilson,  landlady  of  the  inn  at  Fushie, 

Edinburgh,  printed  for  Cadell  and  Co.,  and  one  stage  from  Edinburgh, — an  old  dame  of 

Simpkin  Marshall.     London  1827.  some  humour,  with  whom  Sir  Walter  always 

The    introduction    to    this    work    contains  had  a  friendly  colloquy  in  passing.     I  believe 

sketches  of  Scott's  own  life,  with  portraits  of  the  charm  was,  that  she  had  passed  her  child- 

his  friends,  unsurpassed  in  any  of  his  earlier  hood  among  the  Gipsies  of  the  Border.     But 

writings;  for  example,  what  could  be  better  her  fiery  Radicalism  latterly  was  another  source 

than  the  description  of  his  ancestors  the  Scotts  of  high  merriment. — j.  o.  L. 
of  Raeburn,  vol.  xli.  p.  61  :— 

"  They  werena  ill  to  them,  sir,  and  that  it  aye 

tomething;  they  were  just  decent  bien  bodies.  *  The  "new  hare"  was  this:  "It  transpired 
Ony  poor  creature  that  had  face  to  beg  got  an  in  the  very  nick  of  time,  that  a  suspicion  of 
awmous  and  welcome;  they  that  were  thamefaced  usury  attached  to  these  Israelites  without 
gaed  by,  and  twice  as  welcome.  But  they  keepit  guile,  in  a  transaction  with  Hurst  and  Robin- 
an  honest  walk  before  Gfod  and  man,  the  Croft-  inson,  as  to  one  or  more  of  the  bills  for  which 
anyryt,  and  as  I  said  before,  if  they  did  little  the  house  of  Ballantyne  had  become  responsi- 
good,  they  did  at  little  ill.  They  lifted  their  Die.  This  suspicion,  upon  investigation,  as- 
rent*  and  spent  them;  called  in  their  kain  and  sumed  a  shape  sufficiently  tangible  to  justify 
eat  them ;  gaed  to  the  kirk  of  a  Sunday,  bowed  Ballantyne's  trustees  in  carrying  the  point  be- 
civilly  if  folk  took  aff  their  bannets  at  they  gaed  fore  the  Court  of  Session;  but  they  failed  to 
by,  and  lookit  as  black  as  sin  at  them  Mat  keepit  establish  their  allegation."—  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp. 
them  on."  178-9. 


1827.] 


JOURNAL  315 


The  trustees  were  clearly  of  opinion  that  the  matter  should  be 
probed  to  the  very  bottom  ;  so  Cadell  sets  off  to-morrow  in  quest  of 
Robinson,  whose  haunts  he  knows.  There  was  much  talk  concerning 
what  should  be  done,  how  to  protect  my  honour's  person,  and  to  post- 
pone commencing  a  defence  which  must  make  Ahab  desperate,  be- 
fore we  can  ascertain  that  the  grounds  are  really  tenable.  This  much 
I  think  I  can  see,  that  the  trustees  will  rather  pay  the  debt  than 
break  off  the  trust  and  go  into  a  sequestration.  They  are  clearly 
right  for  themselves,  and  I  believe  for  me  also.  Whether  it  is  in  hu- 
man possibility  that  I  can  clear  off  these  obligations  or  not,  is  very 
doubtful.  But  I  would  rather  have  it  written  on  my  monument  that 
I  died  at  the  desk  than  live  under  the  recollection  of  having  neglected 
it.  My  conscience  is  free  and  happy,  and  would  be  so  if  I  were  to 
be  lodged  in  the  Calton  Jail.  Were  I  shirking  exertion  I  should 
lose  heart,  under  a  sense  of  general  contempt,  and  so  die  like  a  poi- 
soned rat  in  a  hole. 

Dined  with  Gibson  and  John  Home.  His  wife  is  a  pretty  lady- 
like woman.  Slept  there  at  night. 

November  6.  —  I  took  possession  of  No.  6  Shandwick  Place,  Mrs. 
Jobson's  house.  Mr.  Cadell  had  taken  it  for  me  ;  terms  £100  for 
four  months  —  cheap  enough,  as  it  is  a  capital  house.  I  offered  £5 
for  immediate  entrance,  as  I  do  not  like  to  fly  back  to  Abbotsford. 
So  here  we  are  established,  i.e.  John  Nicolson1  and  I,  with  good 
fires  and  all  snug. 

I  waited  on  L.  J.  S.  ;  an  affecting  meeting." 

Sir  William  Forbes  came  in  before  dinner  to  me,  high-spirited 
noble  fellow  as  ever,  and  true  to  his  friend.  Agrees  with  my  feelings 
to  a  comma.  He  thinks  Cadell's  account  must  turn  up  trumps,  and 
is  for  going  the  vole.1 

1  A  favourite  domestic  at  Abbotsford,  whose  Yet  In  thy  train  come  dove-eyed  peact, 

name  was  never  to  be  mentioned  by  any  of  .  indifference  with  her  heart  of  «nowj 

Scott's  family  without  respect  and  gratitude.-  HfedSi  ta£fc  he™  ££ 
Life,  vol.  x.  p.  3. 

a  Lady  Jane  Stuart's  House  was  No.  12  Mail-  O  haste  to  grant  thy  inppliut'i  prayer, 

land  Street,  opposite  Shandwick  Place^    Mrs.  R£  fti?i^<^SFSLd  «,, 

Skene  told  Mr.  Lockhart  that  at  Sir  Walter's  But  take  the  thorn  that'*  in  my  heart. 
first  meeting  with  his  old  friend  a  very  painful 

scene  occurred,  and  she  added—  "I  think  it  Ah  !  why  do  fabling  poets  tell 

highly  probable  that  it  was  on  returning  from  mT«2  O^^SyS^^S^ 

this  call  that  he  committed  to  writing  the  And  dii  thy  slowest  pa«e  unkind  I  ' 
verses,  To  Time,  by  his  early  favourite.  "—Life, 

vol.  is.  p.  183  To  me  thy  tedious  feeble  pace 

The  lines  referred  to  are  given  below-  fJ 


Friend  of  the  wretch  oppress'd  with  grief,  And  hal1  mild  eveninS  with  ">?  te 

ThTteJXTl±Vreghre!ufT'  '^  ~L^  ^  '"  P 

That  wipes  her  tears—  that  checks  her  sighs  !  3  Sir  William  Forbes  crowned  his  generous 

•Ti,  thine  the  wounded  soul  to  heal  SSf'SfcjE  ^^J?**  *J  Privately  paying 

That  hopeless  bleeds  for  sorrow's  smart,  the  wn°le  °f  Abud's  demand  (nearly  £2000) 

From  stern  misfortune's  shaft  to  steal  •  out  of  his  own  pocket  —  ranking  as  an  ordinary 

The  barb  that  rankles  in  the  heart.  creditor  for  the  amount;  and  taking  care  at 

tbe  same  time  that  his  old  friend  should  be 

WAndtunhd  vo^b^V^'is^er;  »«?™»  .»  ^Heve  that  the  affair  had  merged 

Though  dimmed  the  lustr*  of  the  eye,  quietly  in  the  general  measures  of  the  trus- 

And  hope's  rain  dreams  enchant  no  more.  tees.      In  fact  it  Was  UOt  Until  Some  time  after 


316  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

November  7.  —  Began  to  settle  myself  this  morning,  after  the  hurry 
of  mind,  and  even  of  body,  which  I  have  lately  undergone.  Com- 
menced a  review  —  that  is,  an  essay,  on  Ornamental  Gardening  for  the 
Quarterly.  But  I  stuck  fast  for  want  of  books.  As  I  did  not  wish 
to  leave  the  mind  leisure  to  recoil  on  itself,  I  immediately  began  the 
Second  Series  of  the  Chronicles  of  Canongate,  the  First  having  been 
well  approved.  I  went  to  make  another  visit,  and  fairly  softened 
myself  like  an  old  fool,  with  recalling  old  stories  till  I  was  fit  for 
nothing  but  shedding  tears  and  repeating  verses  for  the  whole  night. 
This  is  sad  work.  The  very  grave  gives  up  its  dead,  and  time  rolls 
back  thirty  years  to  add  to  my  perplexities.  I  don't  care.  I  begin 
to  grow  over-hardened,  and,  like  a  stag  turning  at  bay,  my  naturally 
good  temper  grows  fierce  and  dangerous.  Yet  what  a  romance  to 
tell,  and  told  I  fear  it  will  one  day  be.  And  then  my  three  years  of 
dreaming  and  my  two  years  of  wakening  will  be  chronicled  doubtless. 
But  the  dead  will  feel  no  pain. 

November  8.  —  Domum  mansi,  lanamfeci.  I  may  borrow  the  old 
sepulchral  motto  of  the  Roman  matron.  I  stayed  at  home,  and  be- 
gan the  third  volume  of  Chronicles,  or  rather  the  first  volume  of  the 
Second  Series.1  This  I  pursued  with  little  intermission  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  yet  only  finished  nine  pages.  Like  the  machinery  of  a 
steam-engine,  the  imagination  does  not  work  freely  when  first  set 
upon  a  new  task. 

November  9.  —  Finished  my  task  after  breakfast,  at  least  before 
twelve.  Then  went  to  College  to  hear  this  most  amusing  good  mat- 
ter of  the  Essay  read.4  Imprimis  occurs  a  dispute  whether  the  mag- 
istrates, as  patrons  of  the  University,  should  march  in  procession  be- 
fore the  Royal  visitors  ;  and  it  was  proposed  on  our  side  that  the 
Provost,  who  is  undoubtedly  the  first  man  in  his  own  city,  should  go 
in  attendance  on  the  Principal,  with  the  Chairman  of  the  Commission 
on  the  Principal's  right  hand,  and  the  whole  Commission  following, 
taking  pas  of  the  other  Magistrates  as  well  as  of  the  Senatus  Acade- 
micus  —  or  whether  we  had  not  better  waive  all  question  of  prece- 
dence, and  let  the  three  bodies  find  their  way  separately  as  they  best 
could.  This  last  method  was  just  adopted  when  we  learned  that  the 
question  was  not  in  what  order  of  procession  we  should  reach  the 
place  of  exhibition,  but  whether  we  were  to  get  there  at  all,  which 
was  presently  after  reported  as  an  impossibility.  The  lads  of  the 
College  had  so  effectually  taken  possession  of  the  class-room  where 
the  essay  was  to  be  read,  that,  neither  learning  or  law,  neither  Magis- 

Sir  William's  death  (in  the  following  year)  that  prize  had  been  offered  for  the  best  essay  on 
Sir  Walter  learned  what  he  had  done.  —  Life,  the  national  character  of  the  Athenians.  This 
vol.  ix.  p.  179.  prize,  which  excited  great  interest  among  the 


•  St.  raw  Day  or  **  Mai*  of  Pert*. 

9  A  Royal  Commission,  of  which  Sir  Walter  Commissioners,  and  the  other  public  bodies, 

was  a  member,  had  been  appointed  in  1826  to  with  the  result  described  by  Sir  Walter.     It 

visit  the  Universities  of  Scotland.     At  the  sug-  was  read  on  the  17th  November  before  a  dia- 

gestion  of  Lord  Aberdeen,  a  hundred  guinea  tinguished  audience. 


182V.]  JOURNAL  317 

trates  nor  Magisters,  neither  visitors  nor  visited,  could  make  way  to 
the  scene  of  action.  So  we  grandees  were  obliged  to  adjourn  the 
sederunt  till  Saturday  the  17th — and  so  ended  the  collie-shangie. 

November  10. — Wrote  out  my  task  and  little  more.  At  twelve 
o'clock  I  went  to  poor  Lady  J.  S.  to  talk  over  old  stories.  I  am  not 
clear  that  it  is  right  or  healthful  indulgence  to  be  ripping  up  old  sor- 
rows, but  it  seems  to  give  her  deep-seated  sorrow  words,  and  that  is 
a  mental  blood-letting.  To  me  these  things  are  now  matter  of  calm 
and  solemn  recollection,  never  to  be  forgotten,  yet  scarce  to  be  re- 
membered with  pain. 

We  go  out  to  Saint  Catherine's '  to-day.  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  I 
would  not  have  these  recollections  haunt  me,  and  society  will  put 
them  out  of  my  head. 

November  11.  —  Sir  William  Rae  read  us  prayers.  Sauntered 
about  the  doors,  and  talked  of  old  cavalry  stories.  Then  drove  to 
Melville,  and  saw  the  Lord  and  Lady,  and  family.  I  think  I  never 
saw  anything  more  beautiful  than  the  ridge  of  Carnethy  (Pentland) 
against  a  clear  frosty  sky,  with  its  peaks  and  varied  slopes.  The  hills 
glowed  like  purple  amethysts,  the  sky  glowed  topaz  and  vermilion 
colours.  I  never  saw  a  finer  screen  than  Pentland,  considering  that 
it  is  neither  rocky  nor  highly  elevated. 

November  12. — I  cannot  say  I  lost  a  minute's  sleep  on  account  of 
what  the  day  might  bring  forth ;  though  it  was  that  on  which  we 
must  settle  with  Abud  in  his  Jewish  demand,  or  stand  to  the  conse- 
quences. I  breakfasted  with  an  excellent  appetite,  laughed  in  real 
genuine  easy  fun,  and  went  to  Edinburgh,  resolved  to  do  "what  should 
best  b«come  me.  When  I  came  home  I  found  Walter,  poor  fellow, 
who  had  come  down  on  the  spur,  having  heard  from  John  Lockhart 
how  things  stand.  Gibson  having  taken  out  a  suspension  makes  us 
all  safe  for  the  present.  So  we  dined  merrily.  He  has  good  hopes 
of  his  Majesty,  and  I  must  support  his  interest  as  well  as  I  can. 
Wrote  letters  to  Lady  Shelley,  John  L.,  and  one  or  two  chance  cor- 
respondents. One  was  singular.  A  gentleman,  writing  himself  James 
Macturk,  tells  me  his  friends  have  identified  him  with  Captain  Mac- 
turk  of  St.  Ronan's  Well,  and  finding  himself  much  inconvenienced 
by  this  identification,  he  proposes  I  should  apply  to  the  King  to  for- 
ward his  restoration  and  advance  in  the  service  (he  writes  himself 
late  Lieutenant  4th  Dffcgoon  Guards)  as  an  atonement  for  having  oc- 
casioned him  (though  unintentionally  no  doubt)  so  great  an  injury. 
This  is  one  road  to  promotion,  to  be  sure.  Lieutenant  Macturk  is,  I 
suppose,  tolerably  mad. 

We  dined  together,  Anne,  Walter,  and  I,  and  were  happy  at  our 
reunion,  when,  as  I  was  despatching  my  packet  to  London, 

In  started  to  heeze  up  our  howp2 

i  Sir  William  Rae's  house,  in  Liberton  par-          2  From  the  old  song  Andrew  and  his  Cutty 
jsh,  near  Edinburgh.  Gun, 


318  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

John  Gibson,  radiant  with  good-natured  joy.  He  had  another  letter 
from  Cadell,  enclosing  one  from  Robinson,  in  which  the  latter  pledges 
himself  to  make  the  most  explicit  affidavit. 

On  these  two  last  days  I  have  written  only  three  pages,  but  not 
from  inaptitude  or  incapacity  to  labour.  It  is  odd  enough — I  think 
it  difficult  to  place  me  in  a  situation  of  danger,  or  disagreeable  cir- 
cumstances, purely  personal,  which  would  shake  my  powers  of  mind, 
yet  they  sink  under  mere  lowness  of  spirits,  as  this  Journal  bears  evi- 
dence in  too  many  passages. 

November  13. — Wrote  a  little  in  the  morning,  but  not  above  a 
page.  Went  to  the  Court  about  one,  returned,  and  made  several 
visits  with  Anne  and  Walter.  Cadell  came,  glorious  with  the  success 
of  his  expedition,  but  a  little  allayed  by  the  prospect  of  competition 
for  the  copyrights,  on  which  he  and  I  have  our  eyes  as  joint  pur- 
chasers. We  must  have  them  if  possible,  for  I  can  give  new  value 
to  an  edition  corrected  with  notes.  Nous  verrons!  Captain  Mus- 
grave,  of  the  house  of  Edenhall,  dined  with  us.  After  dinner,  while 
we  were  over  our  whisky  and  water  and  cigars,  enter  the  merry 
knight.  Misses  Kerr  came  to  tea,  and  we  had  fun  and  singing  in  the 
evening. 

November  14. — A  little  work  in  the  morning,  but  no  gathering  to 
my  tackle.  Went  to  Court,  remained  till  nigh  one.  Then  came 
through  a  pitiless  shower ;  dressed  and  went  to  the  christening  of  a 
boy  of  John  Richardson's  who  was  baptized  Henry  Cockburn.  Read 
the  Gazette  of  the  great  battle  of  Navarino,  in  which  we  have  thumped 
the  Turks  very  well.  But  as  to  the  justice  of  our  interference,  I  will 
only  suppose  some  Turkish  plenipotentiary,  with  an  immense  4urban 
and  long  loose  trousers,  comes  to  dictate  to  us  the  mode  in  which  we 
should  deal  with  our  refactory  liegemen  the  Catholics  of  Ireland. 
We  hesitate  to  admit  his  interference,  on  which  the  Moslem  admiral 
runs  into  Cork  Bay  or  Bantry  Bay,  alongside  of  a  British  squadon, 
and  sends  a  boat  to  tow  aside  a  fire-ship.  A  vessel  fires  on  the  boat 
and  sinks  her.  Is  there  an  aggression  on  the  part  of  those  who  fired 
first,  or  of  those  whose  manoeuvres  occasioned  the  firing  ? 

Dined  at  Henry  Cockburn's  with  the  christening  party. 

November  15. — Wrote  a  little  in  the  morning.  Detained  in  Court 
till  two ;  then  returned  home  wet  enough.  Met  with  Chambers,  and 
complimented  him  about  his  making  a  clever-'book  of  the  1745  for 
Constable's  Miscellany.  It  is  really  a  lively  work,  and  must  have  a 
good  sale.  Before  dinner  enter  Cadell,  and  we  anxiously  renewed 
our  plan  for  buying  the  copyrights  on  19th  December.  It  is  most 
essential  that  the  whole  of  the  Waverley  Novels  should  be  kept  under 
our  management,  as  it  is  called.  I  may  then  give  them  a  new  impulse 
by  a  preface  and  notes ;  and  if  an  edition,  of  say  30  volumes,  were  to 
be  published  monthly  to  the  tune  of  5000,  which  may  really  be  ex- 
pected if  the  shops  were  once  cleared  of  the  over-glut,  it  would  bring 
in  £10,000  clear  profit,  over  all  outlay,  and  so  pay  any  sum  of  copy- 


1827.]  JOURNAL  819 

money  that  might  be  ventured.  I  must  urge  these  things  to  Gibson, 
for  except  these  copyrights  be  saved  our  plans  will  go  to  nothing. 

Walter  and  Anne  went  to  hear  Madame  Pasta  sing  after  dinner. 
I  remained  at  home ;  wrote  to  Sir  William  Knighton,  and  sundry 
other  letters  of  importance. 

November  16. — There  was  little  to  do  in  Court  to-day,  but  one's 
time  is  squandered,  and  his  ideas  broken  strangely.  At  three  we 
had  a  select  meeting  of  the  Gas  Directors  to  consider  what  line  we 
were  to  take  in  the  disastrous  affairs  of  the  company.  Agreed  to  go 
to  Parliament  a  second  time.  James  Gibson  [Craig]  and  I  to  go  up 
as  our  solicitors.  So  curiously  does  interest  couple  up  individuals, 
though  I  am  sure  I  have  no  objection  whatever  to  Mr.  James  Gibson- 
Craig.1 

November  17. — Returned  home  in  early  time  from  the  Court. 
Settled  on  the  review  of  Ornamental  Gardening  for  Lockhart,  and 
wrote  hard.  Want  several  quotations,  though — £hat  is  the  bore  of 
being  totally  without  books.  Anne  and  I  dined  quietly  together, 
and  I  wrote  after  tea — an  industrious  day. 

November  18. — This  has  been  also  a  day  of  exertion.  I  was  in- 
terrupted for  a  moment  by  a  visit  from  young  Davidoff  with  a  pres- 
ent of  a  steel  snuff-box  [Tula  work],  wrought  and  lined  with  gold, 
having  my  arms  on  the  top,  and  on  the  sides  various  scenes  from  the 
environs  and  principal  public  buildings  of  St.  Petersburg — ajoli  cadeau 
— and  I  take  it  very  kind  of  my  young  friend.  I  had  a  letter  from 
his  uncle,  Denis  Davidoff,  the  black  captain  of  the  French  retreat. 
The  Russians  are  certainly  losing  ground  and  men  in  Persia,  and  will 
not  easily  get  out  of  the  scrape  of  having  engaged  an  active  enemy  in 
a  difficult  and  unhealthy  country.  I  am  glad  of  it ;  it  is  an  over- 
grown power;  and  to  have  them  kept  quiet  at  least  is  well  for  the 
rest  of  Europe.  I  concluded  the  evening — after  writing  a  double 
task — with  the  trial  of  Malcolm  Gillespie,  renowned  as  a  most  vent- 
urous excise  officer,  but  now  like  to  lose  his  life  for  forgery.  A  bold 
man  in  his  vocation  he  seems  to  have  been,  but  the  law  seems  to 
have  got  round  to  the  wrong  side  of  him  on  the  present  occasion.4 

November  19. — Corrected  the  last  proof  of  Tales  of  my  Grandfa- 
ther. Received  Cadell  at  breakfast,  and  conversed  fully  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Chronicles  and  the  application  of  the  price  of  2d  series, 
say  £4000,  to  the  purchase  of  the  moiety  of  the  copyrights  now  in 
the  market,  and  to  be  sold  this  day  month.  If  I  have  the  command 
of  a  new  Edition  and  put  it  into  an  attractive  shape,  with  notes,  in- 
troductions, and  illustrations  that  no  one  save  I  myself  can  give,  I  am 
confident  it  will  bring  home  the  whole  purchase-money  with  some- 
thing over,  and  lead  to  the  disposal  of  a  series  of  the  subsequent 
volumes  of  the  following  works, 

i  Sir  James  Gibson-Craig,  one  of  the  Whig  2  Gillespie  was  tried  at  Aberdeen  before  Lord 
leaders,  and  a  prominent  advocate  of  reform  at  Alloway  on  September  26,  and  sentenced  to  be 
the  end  of  last  century.  executed  on  Friday,  16th  November,  1827. 


320  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

St.  Ronan's  Well 3  vols. 

Redgauntlet 3     " 

Tales  of  Crusaders 4     " 

Woodstock 3     " 

13 

make  a  series  of  7  vols.!  The  two  series  of  the  Chronicles  and  oth- 
ers will  be  ready  about  the  same  time. 

November  20. — Wrought  in  the  morning  at  the  review,  which  I 
fear  will  be  lengthy.  Called  on  Hector  as  I  came  home  from  the 
Court,  and  found  him  better,  and  keeping  a  Highland  heart.  I  came 
home  like  a  crow  through  the  mist,  half  dead  with  a  rheumatic  head- 
ache caused  by  the  beastly  north-east  wind. 

"  What  am  I  now  when  every  breeze  appals  me  ?" '  I  dozed  for 
half-an-hour  in  my  chair  for  pain  and  stupidity.  I  omitted  to  say  yes- 
terday that  I  went  out  to  Melville  Castle  to  inquire  after  my  Lord 
Melville,  who  had  broke  his  collar-bone  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  in 
mounting.  He  is  recovering  well,  but  much  bruised.  I  came  home 
with  Lord  Chief-Commissioner  Adam.  He  told  me  a  dictum  of  old 
Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  speaking  of  his  uncles.  "  No  chance  of  opulence," 
he  said,  "  is  worth  the  risk  of  a  competence."  It  was  not  the  thought 
of  a  great  man,  but  perhaps  that  of  a  wise  one.  Wrought  at  my  re- 
view, and  despatched  about  half  or  better,  I  should  hope.  I  incline 
to  longer  extracts  in  the  next  sheets. 

November  21. — Wrought  at  the  review.  At  one  o'clock  I  attend- 
ed the  general  meeting  of  the  Union  Scottish  Assurance  Company. 
There  was  a  debate  arose  whether  the  ordinary  acting  directors  should 
or  should  not  have  a  small  sum,  amounting  to  about  a  crown  a  piece 
allotted  to  them  each  day  of  their  regular  attendance.  The  proposal 
was  rejected  by  many,  and  upon  grounds  which  sound  very  well, — 
such  as  the  shabbiness  of  men  being  influenced  by  a  trifling  consider- 
ation like  this,  and  the  absurdity  of  the  Company  volunteering  a 
bounty  to  one  set  of  men,  when  there  are  others  willing  to  act  gratu- 
itously, and  many  gentlemen  volunteered  their  own  services ;  though 
I  cannot  help  suspecting  that,  as  in  the  case  of  ultroneous  offers  of 
service  upon  most  occasions,  it  was  not  likely  to  be  acceptable.  The 
motion  miscarried,  however — impoliticly  rejected,  as  I  think.  The 
sound  of  five  shillings  sounds  shabby,  but  the  fact  is  that  it  does  in 
some  sort  reconcile  the  party  to  whom  it  is  offered  to  leave  his  own 
house  and  business  at  an  exact  hour ;  whereas,  in  the  common  case, 
one  man  comes  too  late — another  does  not  come  at  all — the  attend- 
ance is  given  by  different  individuals  upon  different  days,  so  that  no 
one  acquires  the  due  historical  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  the  Com- 
pany. Besides,  the  Directors,  by  taking  even  this  trifling  sum  of 
money,  render  themselves  the  paid  servants  of  the  Company,  and  are 

1  Slightly  altered  from  Macbeth,  Act  n.  Sc.  2. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  321 

bound  to  use  a  certain  degree  of  diligence,  much  greater  than  if  they 
continued  to  serve,  as  hitherto,  gratuitously.  The  pay  is  like  enlist- 
ing money  which,  whether  great  or  small,  subjects  to  engagements 
under  the  Articles  of  war. 

A  china-merchant  spoke, — a  picture  of  an  orator  with  bandy  legs, 
squinting  eyes,  and  a  voice  like  an  ungreased  cart-wheel — a  liberty 
boy,  I  suppose.  The  meeting  was  somewhat  stormy,  but  I  preserved 
order  by  listening  with  patience  to  each  in  turn  ;  determined  that 
they  should  weary  out  the  patience  of  the  meeting  before  I  lost  mine. 
An  orator  is  like  a  top.  Let  him  alone  and  he  must  stop  one  time  or 
another — flog  him,  and  he  may  go  on  for  ever. 

Dined  with  Directors,  of  whom  I  only  knew  the  Manager,  Suther- 
land Mackenzie,  Sir  David  Milne,  and  Wauchope,  besides  one  or  two 
old  Oil  Gas  friends.  It  went  off  well  enough. 

November  22. — Wrought  in  the  morning.  Then  made  arrange- 
ments for  a  dinner  to  celebrate  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  coming  of 
age — that  which  was  to  have  been  held  at  Melville  Castle  being  post- 
poned, owing  to  Lord  M.'s  accident.  Sent  copy  of  Second  Series  of 
Chronicles  of  Canongate  to  Ballantyne. 

November  23. — I  bilked  the  Court  to-day,  and  worked  at  the  re- 
view. I  wish  it  may  not  be  too  long,  yet  know  not  how  to  shorten 
it.  The  post  brought  me  a  letter  from  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  ac- 
quainting me  with  his  grandmother,  the  Duchess-Dowager's  death.1 
She  was  a  woman  of  unbounded  beneficence  to,  and  even  beyond,  the 
extent  of  her  princely  fortune.  She  had  a  masculine  courage,  and 
great  firmness  in  enduring  affliction,  which  pressed  on  her  with  con- 
tinued and  successive  blows  in  her  later  years.  She  was  about  eighty- 
four,  and  nature  was  exhausted ;  so  life  departed  like  the  extinction 
of  a  lamp  for  lack  of  oil.  Our  dinner  on  Monday  is  put  off.  I  am 
not  superstitious,  but  I  wish  this  festival  had  not  been  twice  delayed 
by  such  sinister  accidents — first,  the  injury  sustained  by  Lord  Mel- 
ville, and  then  this  event  spreading  crape  like  the  shroud  of  Saladin 
over  our  little  festival.*  God  avert  bad  omens  ! 

Dined  with  Archie  Swinton.  Company — Sir  Alexander  and  Lady 
Keith,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Anderson,  Clanronald,  etc.  Clanronald  told  us, 
as  an  instance  of  Highland  credulity,  that  a  set  of  his  kinsmen,  Bor- 
radale  and  others,  believing  that  the  fabulous  Water  Cow  inhabited 
a  small  lake  near  his  house,  resolved  to  drag  the  monster  into 
day.  With  this  view  they  bivouacked  by  the  side  of  the  lake,  in 
which  they  placed,  by  way  of  night-bait,  two  small  anchors,  such 
as  belong  to  boats,  each  baited  with  the  carcase  of  a  dog  slain 
for  the  purpose.  They  expected  the  Water  Cow  would  gorge  on 
this  bait,  and  were  prepared  to  drag  her  ashore  the  next  morn- 
ing, when,  to  their  confusion  of  face,  the  baits  were  found  un- 

1  Lady    Elizabeth    Montagu,  daughter    of       been  displayed  as  a  standard  "to  admonish  the 
George  Duke  of  Montagu.  East  of  the  instability  of  human  greatness." — 

2  Saladin's  shroud,  which  was  said  to  have      GJBBOX. 

21 


322  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

touched.  It  is  something  too  late  in  the  day  for  setting  baits  for 
Water  Cows.1 

November  24. — Wrote  at  review  in  the  morning.  I  have  made  my 
revocation  of  the  invitation  for  Monday.  For  myself  it  will  give  me 
time  to  work.  I  could  not  get  home  to-day  till  two  o'clock,  and  was 
quite  tired  and  stupid.  So  I  did  little  but  sleep  or  dose  till  dress- 
ing-time. Then  went  to  Sir  David  Wedderburn's,  where  I  met  three 
beauties  of  my  own  day,  Margaret  Brown,  Maria  Brown,  and  Jane 
Wedderburn,  now  Lady  Wedderburn,  Lady  Ilampden,  and  Mrs.  Oli- 
phant.  We  met  the  pleasant  Irish  family  of  Meath.  The  resem- 
blance between  the  Earl  of  Meath  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  is 
something  remarkably  striking — it  is  not  only  the  profile,  but  the 
mode  of  bearing  the  person,  and  the  person  itself.  Lady  Theodora 
Brabazon,  the  Earl's  daughter,  and  a  beautiful  young  lady,  told  me 
that  in  Paris  her  father  was  often  taken  for  Lord  Wellington. 

November  25. — This  forenoon  finished  the  review,  and  despatched 
it  to  Lockhart  before  dinner.  Will  Clerk,  Tom  Thomson,  and  young 
Frank  Scott  dined  with  me.  We  had  a  pleasant  day.  I  have  wrought 
pretty  well  to-day.  But  I  must 

Do  a  little  more 

And  produce  a  little  ore. 

November  26. — Corrected  proof-sheets  of  Chronicles  and  Tales. 
Advised  Sheriff  processes,  and  was  busy. 

Dined  with  Robert  Dundas  of  Arniston,  Lord  Register,  etc.  An 
agreeable  evening. 

November  2*7. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning,  and  attended 
the  Court  till  one  or  two  o'clock,  Mr.  Hamilton  being  again  ill.  I 
visited  Lady  S.  on  my  return.  Came  home  too  fagged  to  do  any- 
thing to  purpose. 

Anecdote  from  George  Bell.  In  the  days  of  Charles  u.  or  his 
brother,  flourished  an  old  Lady  Elphinstone,  so  old  that  she  reached 
the  extraordinary  period  of  103.  She  was  a  keen  Whig,  so  did 
not  relish  Graham  of  Clavers.  At  last,  having  a  curiosity  to  see  so 
aged  a  person,  he  obtained  or  took  permission  to  see  her,  and  asked 
her  of  the  remarkable  things  she  had  seen.  "  Indeed,"  said  she,  "  I 
think  one  of  the  most  remarkable  is,  that  when  I  entered  the  world 
there  was  one  Knox  deaving  us  a'  with  his  clavers,  and  now  that  I 
am  going  out  of  it,  there  is  one  Clavers  deaving  us  with  his  knocks." 

1  The  belief  in  the  existence  of  the  "Water  ing  failed  owing  to  the  smallness  of  the  pumps, 

Cow"  is  not  even  yet  extinct  in  the  Highlands.  though  it  was  persevered  in  for  two  years,  he 

In  Mr.  J.  H.  Dixon's  book  on  CatrtocA,  8vo,  next  tried  poisoning  the  water  by  emptying 

1886,  it  is  said  the  monster  lives  or  did  live  in  into  the  loch  a  quantity  of  quick  lime !  !— Wliat- 

Loch  na  Beistc!    Some  years  ago  the  propri-  ever  harm  was  thus  done  to  the  trout  none  was 

ctor,  moved  by  the  entreaties  of  the  people,  experienced  by  the  Beast,  which  it  is  rumoured 

and  on  the  positive  testimony  of  two  elders  of  has  been  seen  in  the  neighbourhood  as  late  as 

the  Free  Church,  that  the  creature  was  hiding  1884  (p.  162).    This  transaction  formed  an  ele- 

in  his  loch,  attempted  its  destruction  by  pump-  ment  in  a  case  before  the  Crofters'  Commis- 

ing  and  running  off  the  water;  this  plan  hav-  sion  at  Aultbea  in  May,  1888. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  323 

November  28. — Corrected  proofs  and  went  to  Court.  Returned 
about  one,  and  called  on  the  Lord  Chief-Baron.  Dined  with  the 
Duchess  of  Bedford  at  the  Waterloo,  and  renewed,  as  I  may  say,  an 
old  acquaintance,  which  began  while  her  Grace  was  Lady  Georgian  a.1 
She  has  now  a  fine  family,  two  young  ladies  silent  just  now,  but  they 
will  find  their  tongues,  or  they  are  not  right  Gordons,  a  very  fine 
child,  Alister,  who  shouted,  sung,  and  spoke  Gaelic  with  much  spirit. 
They  are  from  a  shooting-place  in  the  Highlands,  called  Invereshie, 
in  Badenoch,  which  the  Duke  has  taken  to  gratify  the  Duchess's  pas- 
sion for  the  heather. 

November  29. — My  course  of  composition  is  stopped  foolishly 
enough.  I  have  sent  four  leaves  to  London  with  Lockhart's  review. 
I  am  very  sorry,  for  this  blunder,  and  here  is  another.  Forgetting  I 
had  been  engaged  for  a  long  time  to  Lord  Gillies — a  first  family  vis- 
it too — the  devil  tempted  me  to  accept  of  the  office  of  President  of 
the  Antiquarian  Society.  And  now  they  tell  me  people  have  come 
from  the  country  to  be  present,  and  so  forth,  of  which  I  may  believe 
as  much  as  I  may.  But  I  must  positively  take  care  of  this  absurd 
custom  of  confounding  invitations.  My  conscience  acquits  me  of 
doing  so  by  malice  prepense,  yet  one  incurs  the  suspicion.  At  any 
rate  it  is  uncivil  and  must  be  amended.  Dined  at  Lord  C.  Commis- 
sioner's— to  meet  the  Duchess  and  her  party.  She  can  be  extremely 
agreeable,  but  I  "used  to  think  her  Grace  journaliere.  She  may  have 
been  cured  of  that  fault,  or  I  may  have  turned  less  jealous  of  my  dig- 
nity. At  all  events  let  a  pleasant  hour  go  by  unquestioned,  and  do 
not  let  us  break  ordinary  gems  to  pieces  because  they  are  not  dia- 
monds. I  forgot  to  say  Edwin  Landseer  was  in  the  Duchess's  train. 
He  is,  in  my  mind,  one  of  the  most  striking  masters  of  the  modern 
school.  His  expression  both  in  man  and  animals  is  capital.  He 
showed  us  many  sketches  of  smugglers,  etc.,  taken  in  the  Highlands, 
all  capital. 

"  Some  gaed  there,  and  some  gaed  here, 
And  a'  the  town  was  in  a  steer, 
And  Johnnie  on  his  brocket  mear, 
He  raid  to  fetch  the  howdie." 

November  30. — Another  idle  morning,  with  letters,  however.  Had 
the  great  pleasure  of  a  letter  from  Lord  Dudley2  acquainting  me  that 
he  had  received  his  Majesty's  commands  to  put  down  the  name  of  my 
son  Charles  for  the  first  vacancy  that  should  occur  in  the  Foreign  Of- 
fice, and  at  the  same  time  to  acquaint  me  with  his  gracious  intentions, 
which  were  signified  in  language  the  most  gratifying  to  me.  This 
makes  me  really  feel  light  and  happy,  and  most  grateful  to  the  kind 
and  gracious  sovereign  who  has  always  shown,  I  may  say,  so  much 

1  Daughter  of  Alexander,  fourth   Duke  of      the  Foreign  Department,  was  an  early  friend 
Gordon.  of  Scott's.     He  had  boon  partly  educated  in 

a  Lord  Dudley,  then  Secretary  of  State  for      Edinburgh,  under  Dugald  Stewart's  care. 


324  JOURNAL  [Nov.  1827. 

friendship  towards  me.  Would  to  God  the  King's  errand  might  lie 
in  the  cadger's  gait,  that  I  might  have  some  better  way  of  showing 
my  gratitude  than  merely  by  a  letter  of  thanks  or  this  private  mem- 
orandum of  my  gratitude.  The .  lad  is  a  good  boy  and  clever,  some- 
what indolent  I  fear,  yet  with  the  capacity  of  exertion.  Presuming 
his  head  is  full  enough  of  Greek  and  Latin,  he  has  now  living  lan- 
guages to  study;  so  I  will  set  him  to  work  on  French,  Italian,  and 
German,  that,  like  the  classic  Cerberus,  he  may  speak  a  leash  of  lan- 
guages at  once.  Dined  with  Gillies,  very  pleasant ;  Lord  Chief-Com- 
missioner, Will  Clerk,  Cranstoun,  and  other  old  friends.  I  saw  in  the 
evening  the  celebrated  Miss  Grahame  Stirling,  so  remarkable  for  her 
power  of  personifying  a  Scottish  old  lady.  Unluckily  she  came  late, 
and  I  left  early  in  the  evening,  so  I  could  not  find  out  wherein  her 
craft  lay.  She  looked  like  a  sensible  woman.  I  had  a  conference 
with  my  trustees  about  the  purchase  (in  company  with  Cadell)  of  the 
copyrights  of  the  novels  to  be  exposed  to  sale  on  the  19th  December, 
and  had  the  good  luck  to  persuade  them  fully  of  the  propriety  of  the 
project.  I  alone  can,  by  notes  and  the  like,  give  these  works  a  new 
value,  and  in  fact  make  a  new  edition.  The  price  is  to  be  made  good 
from  the  Second  Series  Chronicles  of  Canongate,  sold  to  Cadell  for 
£4000 ;  and  it  may  very  well  happen  that  we  shall  have  little  to  pay, 
as  part  of  the  copyrights  will  probably  be  declared  mine  by  the  ar- 
biter, and  these  I  shall  have  without  money  and  without  price.  Ca- 
dell is  most  anxious  on  the  subject.  He  thinks  that  two  years  hence 
£10,000  may  be  made  of  a  new  edition. 


DECEMBER 

December  1. — This  morning  again  I  was  idle.  But  I  must  work, 
and  so  I  will  to-morrow  whether  the  missing  sheets  arrive,  ay  or  no, 
by  goles  !  After  Court  I  went  with  Lord  Wriothesley  Russell,1  to 
Dalkeith  House,  to  see  the  pictures ;  Charles  K.  Sharpe  alongst  with 
us.  We  satisfied  ourselves  that  they  have  actually  frames,  and  that, 
I  think,  was  all  we  could  be  sure  of.  Lord  Wriothesley,  who  is  a 
very  pleasant  young  man,  well-informed,  and  with  some  turn  for  hu- 
mour, dined  with  us,  and  Mr.  Davidoff  met  him.  The  Misses  Kerr 
also  dined  and  spent  the  evening  with  us  in  that  sort  of  society  which 
I  like  best.  Charles  Sharpe  came  in  and  we  laughed  over  oysters 
and  sherry, 

"And  a  fig  for  your  Sultan  and  Sophi." 

December  2. — Laboured  to  make  lee-way,  and  finished  nearly  seven 
pages  to  eke  on  to  the  end  of  the  missing  sheets  when  returned.  I 
have  yoked  Charles  to  Monsieur  Surenne,  an  old  soldier  in  Napoleon's 
Italian  army,  and  I  think  a  clever  little  fellow,  with  good  general 
ideas  of  etymology.  Signer  Bugnie  is  a  good  Italian  teacher;  and 
for  a  German,  why,  I  must  look  about.  It  is  not  the  least  useful  lan- 
guage of  the  leash. 

December  3. — A  day  of  petty  business,  which  killed  a  holiday. 
Finished  my  tale  of  the  Mirror;2  went  with  Tom  Allen  to  see  his 
building  at  Lauriston,  where  he  has  displayed  good  taste — support- 
ing instead  of  tearing  down  or  destroying  the  old  chateau,  which  once 
belonged  to  the  famous  Mississippi  Law.  The  additions  are  in  very 
good  taste,  and  will  make  a  most  comfortable  house.  Mr.  Burn,  archi- 
tect, would  fain  have  had  the  old  house  pulled  down,  which  I  wonder 
at  in  him,3  though  it  would  have  been  the  practice  of  most  of  his 
brethren.  When  I  came  up  to  town  I  was  just  in  time  for  the  Ban- 
natyne  Club,  where  things  are  going  on  reasonably  well.  I  hope  we 
may  get  out  some  good  historical  documents  in  the  course  of  the 

1  The  Duchess  of  Bedford's  eldest  son.  building,  and  it  left  his  hands  in  1834  a  bit  of 
a  MM  Aunt  Ma.raare.Vs  Mirror  solid  well-jointed  mason-work  with  all  Andrew 
My  Aunt  Margaret  s  m>  Fail-service's    "  whigmaleeries,    curliewurlies, 
3  Sir  Walter  need  have  expressed  no  sur-  and  open  steek  hems"  most  thoroughly  re- 
prise at  this  architect's  desire  to  pull  down  the  moved! — Rob  Roy,  vol.  viii.  pp.  29-30.     Fort- 
old  house  of  Lauriston!    The  present  genera-  unately  the  tower  and  crown  were  untouched, 
tion  can  judge  of  Mr.  Burn's  appreciation  of  and  the  interior,  which  was  injured  in  a  less 
ancient  Architecture  by  looking  at  the  outside  degree,  has,  through  the   liberality  and  good 
of  St.  Giles,  Edinburgh.  —It  was  given  over  to  taste  of  the  late  William  Chambers,  been  re- 
his  tender  mercies  in  1820,  a  picturesque  old  stored  to  its  original  stateliness. 


326  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

winter.  Dined  at  the  Royal  Society  Club.  At  the  society  had  some 
essays  upon  the  specific  weight  of  the  ore  of  manganese,  which  was 
caviare  to  the  President,  and  I  think  most  of  the  members.  But  it 
seemed  extremely  accurate,  and  I  have  little  doubt  was  intelligible  to 
those  who  had  the  requisite  key.  We  supped  at  Mr.  Russell's,  where 
the  conversation  was  as  gay  as  usual.  Lieut-Col.  Ferguson  was  my 
guest  at  the  dinner. 

December  4. — Had  the  agreeable  intelligence  that  Lord  Newton 
had  finally  issued  his  decree  in  my  favour,  for  all  the  money  in  the 
bank,  amounting  to  £32,000.  This  will  make  a  dividend  of  six  shil- 
lings in  the  pound,  which  is  presently  to  be  paid.  A  meeting  of  the 
creditors  was  held  to-day,  at  which  they  gave  unanimous  approba- 
tion of  all  that  has  been  done,  and  seemed  struck  by  the  exertions 
which  had  produced  £22,000  within  so  short  a  space.  They  all  sep- 
arated well  pleased.  So  far  so  good.  Heaven  grant  the  talisman 
break  not !  I  sent  copy  to  Ballantyne  this  morning,  having  got  back 
the  missing  sheets  from  John  Lockhart  last  night.  I  feel  a  little  puz- 
zled about  the  character  and  style  of  the  next  tale.  The  world  has 
had  so  much  of  chivalry.  Well,  I  will  dine  merrily,  and  thank  God, 
and  bid  care  rest  till  to-morrow.  How  suddenly  things  are  overcast, 
and  how  suddenly  the  sun  can  break  out  again !  On  the  31st  Octo- 
ber I  was  dreaming  as  little  of  such  a  thing  as  at  present,  when  be- 
hold there  came  tidings  which  threatened  a  total  interruption  of  the 
amicable  settlement  of  my  affairs,  and  menaced  my  own  personal  lib- 
erty. In  less  than  a  month  we  are  enabled  to  turn  chase  on  my  per- 
secutors, who  seem  in  a  fair  way  of  losing  their  recourse  upon  us. 
Non  nobis,  Domine. 

December  5. — I  did  a  good  deal  in  the  way  of  preparing  my  new 
tale,  and  resolved  to  make  something  out  of  the  story  of  Harry  Wynd. 
The  North  Inch  of  Perth  would  be  no  bad  name,  and  it  may  be  pos- 
sible to  make  a  difference  betwixt  the  old  Highlander  and  him  of 
modern  date.  The  fellow  that  swam  the  Tay,  and  escaped,  would  be 
a  good  ludicrous  character.  But  I  have  a  mind  to  try  him  in  the  se- 
rious line  of  tragedy.  Miss  Baillie  has  made  the  Ethling1  a  coward 
by  temperament,  and  a  hero  when  touched  by  filial  affection.  Sup- 
pose a  man's  nerves  supported  by  feelings  of  honour,  or  say  by  the 
spur  of  jealousy  supporting  him  against  constitutional  timidity  to  a 
certain  point,  then  suddenly  giving  way, — I  think  something  tragic 
might  be  produced.  James  Ballantyne's  criticism  is  too  much  moulded 
upon  the  general  taste  of  novels  to  admit,  I  fear,  this  species  of  rea- 
soning. But  what  can  one  do  ?  I  am  hard  up  as  far  as  imagination 
is  concerned,  yet  the  world  calls  for  novelty.  Well,  I'll  try  my  brave 
coward  or  cowardly  brave  man.  Valeat  quantum.  Being  a  Teind 
day,  remained  at  home,  adjusting  my  ideas  on  this  point  until  one 
o'clock,  then  walked  as  far  as  Mr.  Cadell's.  Finally,  went  to  dine  at 

»  See  Ethwald,  Plays  on  the  Passions,  vol.  ii.  Lond.  1802. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  327 

Hawkhill  with  Lord  and  Lady  Binning.  Party  were  Lord  Chief -Com- 
missioner, Lord  Chief -Baron,  Solicitor,  John  Wilson,  Lord  Corehouse. 
The  night  was  so  dark  and  stormy  that  I  was  glad  when  we  got  upon 
the  paved  streets. 

December  6. — Corrected  proofs  and  went  to  Court.  Bad  news  of 
Ahab's  case.  I  hope  he  won't  beat  us  after  all.  It  would  be  morti- 
fying to  have  them  paid  in  full,  as  they  must  be  while  better  men 
must  lie  by.  Spero  meliora. 

I  think  that  copy  of  Beard's  Judgments  is  the  first  book  which  I 
have  voluntarily  purchased  for  nearly  two  years.  So  I  am  cured  of 
one  folly  at  least.1 

December  7. — Being  a  blank  day  in  the  rolls,  I  stayed  at  home  and 
wrote  four  leaves — not  very  freely  or  happily ;  I  was  not  in  the  vein. 
Plague  on  it !  Stayed  at  home  the  whole  day.  There  is  one  thing  I 
believe  peculiar  to  me — I  work,  that  is,  meditate  for  the  purpose  of 
working,  best,  when  I  have  a  quasi  engagement  with  some  other  book 
for  example.  When  I  find  myself  doing  ill,  or  like  to  come  to  a 
stand-still  in  writing,  I  take  up  some  slight  book,  a  novel  or  the  like, 
and  usually  have  not  read  far  ere  my  difficulties  are  removed,  and  I 
am  ready  to  write  again.  There  must  be  two  currents  of  ideas  going 
on  in  my  mind  at  the  same  time,2  or  perhaps  the  slighter  occupation 
serves  like  a  woman's  wheel  or  stocking  to  ballast  the  mind,  as  it 
were,  by  preventing  the  thoughts  from  wandering,  and  so  give  the 
deeper  current  the  power  to  flow  undisturbed.  I  always  laugh  when 
I  hear  people  say,  Do  one  thing  at  once.  I  have  done  a  dozen  things 
at  once  all  my  life.  Dined  with  the  family.  After  dinner  Lockhart's 
proofs  came  in  and  occupied  me  for  the  evening.  I  wish  I  have  not 
made  that  article  too  long,  and  Lockhart  will  not  snip  away. 

December  8. — Went  to  Court  and  stayed  there  a  good  while. 
Made  some  consultations  in  the  Advocates'  Library,  not  furiously  to 
the  purpose. 

Court  in  the  morning.  Sent  off  Lockhart's  proof,  which  I  hope 
will  do  him  some  good.  A  precatory  letter  from  Gillies.  I  must  do 
Moliere  for  him,  I  suppose  ;  but  it  is  wonderful  that  knowing  the  sit- 
uation I  am  in,  the  poor  fellow  presses  so  hard.  Sure,  I  am  pulling 
for  life,  and  it  is  hard  to  ask  me  to  pull  another  man's  oar  as  well  as 
my  own.  Yet,  if  I  can  give  a  little  help, 

"We'll  get  a  blessing  wi'  the  lave, 
And  never  miss  't."  3 

Went  to  John  Murray's,  where  were  Sir  John  Dalrymple  and  Lady, 
Sir  John  Cayley,  Mr.  Hope  Vere,  and  Lady  Elizabeth  Vere,  a  sister 
of  the  Marquis  of  Tweeddale,  and  a  pleasant  sensible  woman.  Some 

1  Alluding  to  an  entry  in  the  Journal,  that          3  See  note  to  May  30, 1827,  p.  261. 
he  had  expended  30a  in  the  purchase  of  the 

Theatre  of  God's  Judgment,  1612,  a  book  which          3  Burns's  lines  To  a  Moute. 
is  still  in  the  Abbotsford  Library. 


328  JOURNAL  PEC. 

turn  for  antiquity  too  she  shows — and  spoke  a  good  deal  of  the  pict- 
ures at  Tester.  Henderland  was  there  too.  Mrs.  John  Murray  made 
some  very  agreeable  music. 

December  9. — I  set  hard  to  work,  and  had  a  long  day  with  my  new 
tale.  I  did  about  twelve  leaves.  Cadell  came  in,  and  we  talked  upon 
the  great  project  of  buying  in  the  copyrights.  He  is  disposed  to 
finesse  a  little  about  it,  but  I  do  not  think  it  will  do  much  good ;  all 
the  fine  arguments  will  fly  off  and  people  just  bid  or  not  bid  as  the 
report  of  the  trade  may  represent  the  speculation  as  a  good  or  bad 
one.  I  daresay  they  will  reach  £7000;  but  £8000  won't  stop  us, 
and  that  for  books  over-printed  so  lately  and  to  such  an  extent  is  a 
pro-di-gi-ous  price ! 

December  10. — I  corrected  proofs  and  forwarded  copy.  Went  out 
for  an  hour  to  Lady  J.  S.  Home  and  dozed  a  little,  half  stupefied 
with  a  cold  in  my  head — made  up  this  Journal,  however.  Settled  I 
would  go  to  Abbotsford  on  the  24th  from  Arniston.  Before  that  time 
I  trust  the  business  of  the  copyrights  will  be  finally  settled.  If  they 
can  be  had  on  anything  like  fair  terms,  they  will  give  the  greatest 
chance  1  can  see  of  extricating  my  affairs.  Cadell  seems  to  be  quite 
confident  in  the  advantage  of  making  the  purchase  upon  almost  any 
terms,  and  truly  I  am  of  his  opinion.  If  they  get  out  of  Scotland  it 
will  not  be  all  I  can  do  that  will  enable  me  to  write  myself  a  free  man 
during  the  space  I  have  to  remain  in  this  world. 

I  smoked  a  couple  of  cigars  for  the  first  time  since  I  came  from 
the  country ;  and  as  Anne  and  Charles  went  to  the  play,  I  muddled 
away  the  evening  over  my  Sheriff-Court  processes,  and  despatched  a 
hugeous  parcel  to  Will  Scott  at  Selkirk.  It  is  always  something  off 
hand. 

December  11. — Wrote  a  little,  and  seemed  to  myself  to  get  on.  I 
went  also  to  Court.  On  return,  had  a  formal  communication  from 
Ballantyne,  enclosing  a  letter  from  Cadell  of  an  unpleasant  tenor.  It 
seems  Mr.  Cadell  is  dissatisfied  with  the  moderate  success  of  the  First 
Series  of  Chronicles ; '  and  disapproves  of  about  half  the  volume  al- 
ready written  of  the  Second  Series,  obviously  rueing  his  engagement. 
I  have  replied  that  I  was  not  fool  enough  to  suppose  that  my  favour 
with  the  public  could  last  for  ever,  and  was  neither  shocked  nor 
alarmed  to  find  that  it  had  ceased  now,  as  cease  it  must  one  day  soon ; 
it  might  be  inconvenient  for  me  in  some  respects,  but  I  would  be  quite 
contented  to  resign  the  bargain  rather  than  that  more  loss  should  be 
incurred.  I  saw,  I  told  them,  no  other  receipt  than  lying  lea  for  a  lit- 
tle, while  taking  a  fallow-break  to  relieve  my  imagination,  which  may 
be  esteemed  nearly  cropped  out.  I  can  make  shift  for  myself  amid 
this  failure  of  prospects;  but  I  think  both  Cadell  and  J.  B.  will  be 

1  Ante,  p.  313.    The  book  had  only  been  pub-  Aunt  Margaret's  Mirror  and  the  Laird's  Jock 

lished  two  months.      "The  Second  Series,"  appeared  in  the  Keepsake  of  1828,  and  were 

when  published   in  the  following  year,  con-  afterwards  included  in  vol.  xli.  of  the  Magnum 

tained  St.  Valentine's  Eve,  or  the  fair  Maid  Opus, 
of  Perth;  the  two  stories  objected  to,  viz. :  My 


1827.]  JOURNAL  329 

probable  sufferers.  However,  they  are  very  right  to  speak  their  mind, 
and  may  be  esteemed  tolerably  good  representatives  of  the  popular 
taste.  So  I  really  think  their  censure  may  be  a  good  reason  for  lay- 
ing aside  this  work,  though  I  may  preserve  some  part  of  it  till  an- 
other day. 

December  12. — Reconsidered  the  probable  downfall  of  my  literary 
reputation.  I  am  so  constitutionally  indifferent  to  the  censure  or 
praise  of  the  world,  that  never  having  abandoned  myself  to  the  feel- 
ings of  self-conceit  which  my  great  success  was  calculated  to  inspire, 
I  can  look  with  the  most  unshaken  firmness  upon  the  event  as  far  as 
my  own  feelings  are  concerned.  If  there  be  any  great  advantage  in 
literary  reputation,  I  have  had  it,  and  I  certainly  do  not  care  for 
losing  it. 

They  cannot  say  but  what  I  had  the  crown.  It  is  unhappily  in- 
convenient for  my  affairs  to  lay  by  my  [work]  just  now,  and  that  is 
the  only  reason  why  I  do  not  give  up  literary  labour ;  but,  at  least,  I 
will  not  push  the  losing  game  of  novel-writing.  I  will  take  back  the 
sheets  now  objected  to,  but  it  cannot  be  expected  that  I  am  to  write 
upon  return.  I  cannot  but  think  that  a  little  thought  will  open  some 
plan  of  composition  which  may  promise  novelty  at  the  least.  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  hear  from  or  see  these  gentlemen  to-day ;  if  not,  I  must 
send  for  them  to-morrow.  How  will  this  affect  the  plan  of  going 
shares  with  Cadell  in  the  novels  of  earlier  and  happier  date  ?  Very 
much,  1  doubt,  seeing  I  cannot  lay  down  the  cash.  But  surely  the 
trustees  may  find  some  mode  of  providing  this,  or  else  with  cash  to 
secure  these  copyrights.  At  any  rate,  I  will  gain  a  little  time  for 
thought  and  discussion. 

Went  to  Court.  At  returning  settled  with  Chief-Commissioner 
that  I  should  receive  him  on  26th  December  at  Abbotsford. 

After  all,  may  there  not  be,  in  this  failure  to  please,  some  reliques 
of  the  very  unfavourable  matters  in  which  I  have  been  engaged  of 
late, — the  threat  of  imprisonment,  the  resolution  to  become  insolvent? 
I  cannot  feel  that  there  is.  What  I  suffer  by  is  the  difficulty  of  not 
setting  my  foot  upon  such  ground  as  I  have  trod  before,  and  thus  in- 
stead of  attaining  novelty  I  lose  spirit  and  nature.  On  the  other  hand, 
who  would  thank  me  for  "repented  sheets"?  Here  is  a  good  joke 
enough,  lost  to  all  who  have  not  known  the  Clerk's  table  before  the 
Jurisdiction  Act. 

My  two  learned  Thebans  are  arrived,  and  departed  after  a  long 
consultation.  They  deprecated  a  fallow-break  as  ruin.  I  set  before 
them  my  own  sense  of  the  difficulties  and  risks  in  which  I  must  be 
involved  by  perseverance,  and  showed  them  I  could  occupy  my  own 
time  as  well  for  six  months  or  a  twelvemonth,  and  let  the  public 
gather  an  appetite.  They  replied  (and  therein  was  some  risk)  that 
the  expectation  would  in  that  case  be  so  much  augmented  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  any  mortal  to  gratify  it.  To  this  is  to  be 
added  what  they  did  not  touch  upon — the  risk  of  being  thrust  aside 


330  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

altogether,  which  is  the  case  with  the  horses  that  neglect  keeping 
the  lead  when  once  they  have  got  it.  Finally,  we  resolved  the  pres- 
ent work  should  go  on,  leaving  out  some  parts  of  the  Introduction 
which  they  object  to.  They  are  good  specimens  of  the  public  taste 
in  general ;  and  it  is  far  best  to  indulge  and  yield  to  them,  unless  I 
was  very,  very  certain  that  I  was  right  and  they  wrong.  Besides,  I 
am  not  afraid  of  their  being  hypercritical  in  the  circumstances,  being 
both  sensible  men,  and  not  inclined  to  sacrifice  chance  of  solid  profit 
to  the  vagaries  of  critical  taste.  So  the  word  is  "  as  you  were." 

December  13. — A  letter  from  Lockhart  announcing  that  Murray 
of  Albemarle  Street  would  willingly  give  me  my  own  terms  for  a 
volume  on  the  subject  of  planting  and  landscape  gardening.  This 
will  amuse  me  very  much  indeed.  Another  proposal  invites  me,  on 
the  part  of  Colburn,  to  take  charge  of  the  Garrick  papers.  The 
papers  are  to  be  edited  by  Colman,  and  then  it  is  proposed  to  me  to 
write  a  life  of  Garrick  in  quarto.1  Lockhart  refused  a  thousand 
pounds  which  were  offered,  and  carte  blanche  was  then  sent.  But  I 
will  not  budge.  My  book  and  Colman's  would  run  each  other  down. 
It  is  an  attempt  to  get  more  from  the  public  out  of  the  subject  than 
they  will  endure.  Besides,  my  name  would  be  only  useful  in  the 
way  of  puff,  for  I  really  know  nothing  of  the  subject.  So  I  will  re- 
fuse ;  that 's  flat. 

Having  turned  over  my  thoughts  with  some  anxiety  about  the 
important  subject  of  yesterday,  I  think  we  have  done  for  the  best. 
If  I  can  rally  this  time,  as  I  did  in  the  Crusaders,  why,  there  is  the 
old  trade  open  yet.  If  not,  retirement  will  come  gracefully  after  my 
failure.  I  must  get  the  return  of  the  sales  of  the  three  or  four  last 
novels,  so  as  to  judge  what  style  of  composition  has  best%nswered. 
Add  to  this,  giving  up  just  now  loses  £4000  to  the  trustees,  which 
they  would  not  understand,  whatever  may  be  my  nice  authorial  feel- 
ings. And  moreover,  it  ensures  the  purchase  of  the  copyrights — i.e. 
almost  ensures  them. 

December  14. — Summoned  to  pay  arrears  of  our  unhappy  Oil  Gas 
concern — £140 — which  I  performed  by  draft  on  Mr.  Cadell.  This 
will  pinch  a  little  close,  but  it  is  a  debt  of  honour,  and  must  be  paid. 
The  public  will  never  bear  a  public  man  who  shuns  either  to  draw 
his  purse  or  his  sword,  when  there  is  an  open  and  honest  demand  on 
him. 

December  15. — Worked  in  the  morning  on  the  sheets  which  are 
to  be  cancelled,  and  on  the  Tale  of  St.  Valentine's  Eve — a  good  title, 
by  the  way.  Had  the  usual  quantum  sufficit  of  the  Court,  which,  if 
it  did  not  dissipate  one's  attention  so  much,  is  rather  an  amusement 
than  otherwise.  But  the  plague  is  to  fix  one's  attention  to  the  stick- 
ing point,  after  it  has  been  squandered  about  for  two  or  three  hours 

>  The  Garrick  papers  were  published  under      4to,  London,  1831-32.    [Edited  by  James  Boa- 
tbe  title  Pn'uate  Correspondence  of  David  Gar-      den.] 
rick,  illustrated  with  notes  and  Memoir.   2  vols. 


1827.J  JOURNAL  331 

in  such  a  way.     It  keeps  one,  however,  in  the  course  and  stream  of 
actual  life,  which  is  a  great  advantage  to  a  literary  man. 

I  missed  an  appointment,  for  which  I  am  very  sorry.  It  was 
about  our  Advocates'  Library,  which  is  to  be  rebuilt.  During  all  my 
life  we  have  mismanaged  the  large  funds  expended  on  the  rooms  of 
our  library,  totally  mistaking  the  objects  for  which  a  library  is  built ; 
and  instead  of  taking  a  general  and  steady  view  of  the  subject,  patch- 
ing up  disconnected  and  ill-sized  rooms,  totally  unequal  to  answer 
the  accommodation  demanded,  and  bestowing  an  absurd  degree  of 
ornament  and  finery  upon  the  internal  finishing.  All  this  should  be 
reversed :  the  new  library  should  be  calculated  upon  a  plan  which 
ought  to  suffice  for  all  the  nineteenth  century  at  least,  and  for  that 
purpose  should  admit  of  being  executed  progressively ;  then  there 
should  be  no  ornament  other  than  that  of  strict  architectural  pro- 
portion, and  the  rooms  should  be  accessible  one  through  another, 
but  divided  with  so  many  partitions,  as  to  give  ample  room  for 
shelves.  These  small  rooms  would  also  facilitate  the  purposes  of 
study.  Something  of  a  lounging  room  would  not  be  amiss,  which 
might  serve  for  meetings  of  Faculty  occasionally.  I  ought  to  take 
some  interest  in  all  this,  and  I  do.  So  1  will  attend  the  next  meet- 
ing of  committee.  Dined  at  Baron  Hume's,  and  met  General  Camp- 
bell of  Lochnell,  and  his  lady. 

December  16. — AVorked  hard  to-day  and  only  took  a  half  hour's 
walk  with  Hector  Macdonald !  Colin  Mackenzie  unwell ;  his  asthma 
seems  rather  to  increase,  notwithstanding  his  foreign  trip !  Alas  ! 
long-seated  complaints  defy  Italian  climate.  We  had  a  small  party 
to  dinner.  Captain  and  Mrs.  Hamilton,  Davidoff,  Frank  Scott,  Har- 
den, and^iis  chum  Charles  Baillie,  second  son  of  Mellerstain,  who 
seems  a  clever  young  man.1  Two  or  three  of  the  party  stayed  to 
take  wine  and  water. 

December  17. — Sent  off  the  beginning  of  the  Chronicles  to  Ballan- 
tyne.  I  hate  cancels  ;  they  are  a  double  labour. 

Mr.  Cowan,  Trustee  for  Constable's  creditors,  called  in  the  morn- 
ing by  appointment,  and  we  talked  about  the  upset  price  of  the 
copyrights  of  Waverley,  etc.  I  frankly  told  him  that  I  was  so  much 
concerned  that  they  should  remain  more  or  less  under  my  control, 
that  I  was  willing,  with  the  advice  of  my  trustees,  to  offer  a  larger 
upset  than  that  of  £4750,  which  had  been  fixed,  and  that  I  proposed 
the  price  set  up  should  be  £250  for  the  poetry,  Paul's  letters,  etc., 
and  £5250  for  the  novels,  in  all  £5500 ;  but  that  I  made  this  pro- 
posal under  the  condition,  that  in  case  no  bidding  should  ensue,  then 
the  copyrights  should  be  mine  so  soon  as  the  sale  was  adjourned, 
without  any  one  being  permitted  to  bid  after  the  sale.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  this  high  price  will 

"Fright  the  fuds 
Of  the  pock-puds." 

l  Afterwards  Judge  in  the  Court  of  Session  uuder  the  title  of  Lord  Jerviswoode. 


332  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

This  speculation  may  be  for  good  or  for  evil,  but  it  tends  incalcu- 
lably to  increase  the  value  of  such  copyrights  as  remain  in  my  own 
person ;  and,  if  a  handsome  and  cheap  edition  of  the  whole,  with 
notes,  can  be  instituted  in  conformity  with  Cadell's  plan,  it  must 
prove  a  mine  of  wealth,  three-fourths  of  which  will  belong  to  me  or 
my  creditors.  It  is  possible,  no  doubt,  that  the  works  may  lose  their 
effect  on  the  public  mind ;  but  this  must  be  risked,  and  I  think  the 
chances  are  greatly  in  our  favour.  Death  (my  own  I  mean)  would 
improve  the  property,  since  an  edition  with  a  Life  would  sell  like 
wildfire.  Perhaps  those  who  read  this  prophecy  may  shake  their 
heads  and  say,  "Poor  fellow,  he  little  thought  how  he  should  see  the 
public  interest  in  him  and  his  extinguished  even  during  his  natural 
existence."  It  may  be  so,  but  I  will  hope  better.  This  I  know, 
that  no  literary  speculation  ever  succeeded  with  me  but  where  my 
own  works  were  concerned ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  these  have 
rarely  failed.  And  so —  Vogue  la  galere  ! 

Dined  with  the  Lord  Chief-Commissioner,  and  met  Lord  and  Lady 
Binning,  Lord  and  Lady  Abercromby,  Sir  Robert  O'Callaghan,  etc. 
These  dinners  put  off  time  well  enough,  and  I  write  so  painfully  by 
candle-light  that  they  do  not  greatly  interfere  with  business. 

December  18. — Poor  Huntly  Gordon  writes  me  in  despair  about 
£180  of  debt  which  he  has  incurred.  He  wishes  to  publish  two 
sermons  which  I  wrote  for  him  when  he  was  taking  orders ;  but  he 
would  get  little  money  for  them  without  my  name,  and  that  is  at 
present  out  of  the  question.  People  would  cry  out  against  the  unde- 
sired  and  unwelcome  zeal  of  him  who  stretched  out  his  hands  to  help 
the  ark  with  the  best  intentions,  and  cry  sacrilege.  And  yet  they 
would  do  me  gross  injustice,  for  I  would,  if  called  upon,  die  a  mar- 
tyr for  the  Christian  religion,  so  completely  is  (in  my  poor  opinion) 
its  divine  origin  proved  by  its  beneficial  effects  on  the  state  of  society. 
Were  we  but  to  name  the  abolition  of  slavery  and  of  polygamy,  how 
much  has  in  these  two  words  been  granted  to  mankind  by  the  lessons 
of  our  Saviour !  * 

December  19. — Wrought  upon  an  introduction  to  the  notices  which 
have  been  recovered  of  George  Bannatyne,"  author,  or  rather  tran- 
scriber, of  the  famous  Repository  of  Scottish  Poetry,  generally  known 
by  the  Bannatyne  MS.  They  are  very  jejune  these  same  notices — a 
mere  record  of  matters  of  business,  putting  forth  and  calling  in  of 

1  A  few  days  later,  however,  the  following  "  Pray  do  not  think  of  returning  any  thanks 
reply  was  sent: — "Dear  Gordon,— As  I  have  about  this;  it  is  enough  that  I  know  it  is  likely 
no  money  to  spare  at  present,  I  flnd  it  neces-  to  serve  your  purpose.    But  use  the  funds  aris- 
sary  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  my  own  scruples  to  ing  from   this  unexpected  source  with   pru- 
relieve  you  from  serious  difficulties.    The  en-  dence,  for  such  fountains  do  not  spring  up  at 
closed  will  entitle  you  to  deal  with  any  respect-  every  place  of  the  desert.     I  am,  in  haste,  ever 
able  bookseller.    You  must  tell  the  history  in  yours  most  truly,  Walter  Scott." — Life,  vol.  ix. 
your  own  way  as  shortly  as  possible.     All  that  p.  205. 
is  necessary  to  say  is  that  the  discourses  were 
written  to  oblige  a  young  friend.     It  is  under- 
stood my  name  is  not  to  be  put  in  the  title-  *  Issued  in  1829  as  No.  33  of  the  Bannatyne 
page,  or  blazed  at  full  length  in  the  preface.  Club  Books.     Memorials  of  George  Bannatyne^ 
You  may  trust  that  to  the  newspapers.  1545-1B08,  with  Memoir  by  Sir  Walter  Scott. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  333 

sums  of  money,  and  such  like.  Yet  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  learn  that 
this  great  benefactor  to  the  literature  of  Scotland  lived  a  prosperous 
life,  and  enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  domestic  society,  and,  in  a  time  pe- 
culiarly perilous,  lived  unmolested  and  died  in  quiet. 

At  eleven  o'clock  I  had  an  appointment  with  a  person  unknown. 
A  youth  had  written  me,  demanding  an  audience.  I  excused  myself 
by  alleging  the  want  of  leisure,  and  my  dislike  to  communicate  with  a 
person  perfectly  unknown  on  unknown  business.  The  application  was 
renewed,  and  with  an  ardour  which  left  me  no  alternative,  so  I  named 
eleven  this  day.  I  am  too  much  accustomed  to  the  usual  cant  of  the 
followers  of  the  muses  who  endeavour  by  flattery  to  make  their  bad 
stale  butter  make  amends  for  their  stinking  fish.  I  am  pretty  well 
acquainted  with  that  sort  of  thing.  I  have  had  madmen  on  my  hands 
too,  and  once  nearly  was  Kotzebued  by  a  lad  of  the  name  of  Sharpe. 
All  this  gave  me  some  curiosity,  but  it  was  lost  in  attending  to  the 
task  I  was  engaged  in ;  when  the  door  opened  and  in  walked  a  young 
woman  of  middling  rank  and  rather  good  address,  but  something  re- 
sembling our  secretary  David  Laing,  if  dressed  in  female  habiliments. 
There  was  the  awkwardness  of  a  moment  in  endeavouring  to  make 
me  understand  that  she  was  the  visitor  to  whom  I  had  given  the  as- 
signation. Then  there  were  a  few  tears  and  sighs.  "  I  fear,  Madam, 
this  relates  to  some  tale  of  great  distress."  "  By  no  means,  sir ;"  and 
her  countenance  cleared  up.  Still  there  was  a  pause ;  at  last  she  asked 
if  it  were  possible  for  her  to  see  the  king.  I  apprehended  then  that 
she  was  a  little  mad,  and  proceeded  to  assure  her  that  the  king's  sec- 
retary received  all  such  applications  as  were  made  to  his  Majesty,  and 
disposed  of  them.  Then  came  the  mystery.  She  wished  to  relieve 
herself  from  a  state  of  bondage,  and  to  be  rendered  capable  of  main- 
taining herself  by  acquiring  knowledge.  I  inquired  what  were  her 
immediate  circumstances,  and  found  she  resided  with  an  uncle  and 
aunt.  Not  thinking  the  case  without  hope,  I  preached  the  old  doc- 
trine of  patience  and  resignation,  I  suppose  with  the  usual  effect. 

Went  to  the  Bannatyne  Club ;  and  on  the  way  met  Cadell  out  of 
breath,  coming  to  say  he  had  bought  the  copyrights  after  a  smart 
contention.  Of  this  to-morrow.  There  was  little  to  do  at  the  club. 

Afterwards  dined  with  Lord  and  Lady  Abercromby,  where  I  met 
my  old  and  kind  friend,  Major  Buchanan  of  Cambusmore.  His  fa- 
ther was  one  of  those  from  whom  I  gained  much  information  about 
the  old  Highlanders,  and  at  whose  house  I  spent  many  merry  days  in 

my  youth.1  The  last  time  I  saw  old  Cambusmore  was  in .  He 

sat  up  an  hour  later  on  the  occasion,  though  then  eighty-five.  I  shall 
never  forget  him,  and  was  delighted  to  see  the  Major,  who  comes  sel- 
dom to  town. 


1  It  was  thus  that  the  scenery  of  Loch  Ka-  of  the  Lake  was  a  labour  of  love,  and  no  less  so 

trine  came  to  bo  so  associated  with  the  recollec-  to  recall  the  manners  and  incidents  introduced, 

tion  of  many  a  dear  friend  and  merry  expedi-  —Life,  vol.  i.  p.  296. 
tion  of  former  days,  that  to  compose  the  Lady 


334  JOURNAL  PEC. 

Deeember  20. — Ancnt  the  copyrights — the  pock-puds  were  not 
frightened  by  our  high  price.  They  came  on  briskly,  four  or  five 
bidders  abreast,  and  went  on  till  the  lot  was  knocked  down  to  Cadell 
at  £8400 ;  a  very  large  sum  certainly,  yet  he  has  been  offered  profit 
on  it  already.  For  my  part  I  think  the  loss  would  have  been  very 
great  had  we  suffered  these  copyrights  to  go  from  those  which  we 
possessed.  They  would  have  been  instantly  stereotyped  and  forced 
on  the  market  to  bring  home  the  price,  and  by  this  means  depreciated 
for  ever,  and  all  ours  must  have  shared  the  same  fate.  Whereas,  hus- 
banded and  brought  out  with  care,  they  cannot  fail  to  draw  in  the 
others  in  the  same  series,  and  thus  to  be  a  sure  and  respectable  source 
of  profit.  Considered  in  this  point  of  view,  even  if  they  were  worth 
only  the  £8400  to  others,  they  were  £10,000  to  us.  The  largeness 
of  the  price  arising  from  the  activity  of  the  contest  only  serves  to 
show  the  value  of  the  property.'  Had  at  the  same  time  the  agree- 
able intelligence  that  the  octavo  sets,  which  were  bought  by  Hurst 
and  Company  at  a  depreciated  rate,  are  now  rising  in  the  market,  and 
that  instead  of  1500  sold,  they  have  sold  upwards  of  2000  copies. 
This  mass  will  therefore  in  all  probability  be  worn  away  in  a  few 
months  and  then  our  operations  may  commence.  On  the  whole, 
I  am  greatly  pleased  with  the  acquisition.  If  this  first  series  be 
worth  £8400,  the  remaining  books  must  be  worth  £10,000,  and  then 
there  is  Napoleon,  which  is  gliding  away  daily,  for  which  I  would  not 
take  the  same  sum,  which  would  come  to  £24,200  in  all  for  copy- 
rights ;  besides  £20,000  payable  by  insurance.*  Add  the  value  of 
my  books  and  furniture,  plate,  etc.,  there  would  be  £50,000.  So  this 
may  be  considered  my  present  progress.  There  will  still  remain  up- 
wards of  £35,000. 

"  Heaven's  arm  strike  with  us — 'tis  a  fearful  odds."  3 

Yet  with  health  and  continued  popularity  there  are  chances  in  my  fa- 
vour. 

Dine  at  James  Ballantyne's,  and  happy  man  is  he  at  the  result  of 
the  sale ;  indeed  it  must  have  been  the  making  or  marring  of  him. 
Sir  Henry  Steuart  there,  who  "  fooled  me  to  the  top  of  my  bent." 

December  21. — A  very  sweet  pretty-looking  young  lady,  the  Prima 
Donna  of  the  Italian  Opera,  now  performing  here,  by  name  Miss  Ay- 
ton,4  came  to  breakfast  this  morning,  with  her  father,  (a  bore,  after 
the  manner  of  all  fathers,  mothers,  aunts,  and  other  chaperons  of  pret- 
ty actresses) !  Miss  Ayton  talks  very  prettily,  and,  I  dare  say,  sings 
beautifully,  though  too  much  in  the  Italian  manner,  I  fear,  to  be  a 
great  favourite  of  mine.  But  I  did  not  hear  her,  being  called  away 
by  the  Clerk's  coach.  I  am  like  Jeremy  in  Love  for  Love* — have  a 

1  See  note,  Jan.  8, 1828,  p.  344.  4  The  Edinburgh  play-bills  of  the  day  inti- 

,  n    v,.  ...  mate  the  "Second  appearance  of  Miss  Fanny 

On  his  own  l.fe.  Ayton  prima  Donna  of  thc  Kjng,g  Thcatrc  „ 

»  See  Henry  V.,  Act  IT.  Sc.  3.  6  By  Congreve— Act  n.  Sc.  7. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  335 

reasonable  good  ear  for  a  jig,  but  your  solos  and  sonatas  give  me  the 
spleen. 

Called  at  Cadell's,  who  is  still  enamoured  of  his  bargain,  and 
with  good  reason,  as  the  London  booksellers  were  offering  him  £1000 
or  £2000  to  give  it  up  to  them.  He  also  ascertained  that  all  the  cop- 
ies with  which  Hurst  and  Robinson  loaded  the  market  would  be  off 
in  a  half  year.  Make  us  thankful !  the  weather  is  Clearing  to  wind- 
ward. Cadell  is  cautious,  steady,  and  hears  good  counsel;  and 
Gibson  quite  inclined,  were  I  too  confident,  to  keep  a  good  look-out 
ahead. 

December  22. — Public  affairs  look  awkward.  The  present  Minis- 
try are  neither  Whig  nor  Tory,  and,  divested  of  the  support  of  either 
of  the  great  parties  of  the  State,  stand  supported  by  the  will  of  the 
sovereign  alone.  This  is  not  constitutional,  and  though  it  may  be  a 
temporary  augmentation  of  the  sovereign's  personal  influence,  yet  it 
cannot  but  prove  hurtful  to  the  Crown  upon  the  whole,  by  tending 
to  throw  that  responsibility  on  the  Sovereign  of  which  the  law  has  de- 
prived him.  I  pray  to  God  I  may  be  wrong,  but  an  attempt  to  govern 
par  bascule — by  trimming  betwixt  the  opposite  parties — is  equally 
unsafe  for  the  crown  and  detrimental  to  the  country,  and  cannot  do 
for  a  long  time.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  Lord  Goderich,  a  well- 
meaning  and  timid  man,  finds  himself  on  a  precipice — that  his  head 
is  grown  dizzy  and  he  endeavours  to  cling  to  the  person  next  him. 
This  person  is  Lord  Lansdowne,  who  he  hopes  may  support  him  in 
the  House  of  Lords  against  Lord  Grey,  so  he  proposes  to  bring  Lord 
Lansdowne  into  the  Cabinet.  Lord  G.  resigns,  and  his  resignation  is 
accepted.  Lord  Harrowby  is  then  asked  to  place  himself  at  the  head 
of  a  new  Administration, — declines.  The  tried  abilities  of  Marquis 
Wellesley  are  next  applied  to ;  it  seems  he  also  declines,  and  then 
Lord  Goderich  comes  back,  his  point  about  Lord  Lansdowne  having 
failed,  and  his  threatened  resignation  goes  for  nothing.  This  must 
lower  the  Premier  in  the  eyes  of  every  one.  It  is  plain  the  K.  will 
not  accept  the  Whigs ;  it  is  equally  plain  that  he  has  not  made  a 
move  towards  the  Tories,  and  that  with  a  neutral  administration  this 
country,  hard  ruled  at  any  time,  can  be  long  governed,  I,  for  one, 
cannot  believe.  God  send  the  good  King,  to  whom  I  owe  so  much, 
as  safe  and  honourable  extrication  as  the  circumstances  render  pos- 
sible.1 

After  Court  Anne  set  out  for  Abbotsford  with  the  Miss  Kerrs. 
I  came  off  at  three  o'clock  to  Arniston,  where  I  found  Lord  Register 
and  lady,  R.  Dundas  and  lady,  Robt.  Adam  Dundas,  Durham  of  Cal- 
derwood  and  lady,  old  and  young  friends.  Charles  came  with  me. 

December  23. — Went  to  church  to  Borthwick  with  the  family,  and 
heard  a  well-composed,  well-delivered,  sensible  discourse  from  Mr. 

1  The  dissolution  of  the  Goderich  Cabinet      from  the  Premiership  of  the  Duke  ol  Welling- 
confirmed  very  soon  these  shrewd  guesses;      ton.—  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  186. 
and  Sir  Walter  anticipated  nothing  but  good 


336  JOURNAL  PEC. 

Wright,1  the  clergyman — a  different  sort  of  person,  I  wot,  from  my 
old  half-mad,  half-drunken,  little  hump-back  acquaintance  Clunie,2 
renowned  for  singing  "  The  Auld  Man's  Mear's  dead,"  and  from  the 
circumstance  of  his  being  once  interrupted  in  his  minstrelsy  by  the 
information  that  his  own  horse  had  died  in  the  stable. 

After  sermon  we  looked  at  the  old  castle,  which  made  me  an  old 
man.  The  castle  was  not  a  bit  older  for  the  twenty-five  years  which 
had  passed  away,  but  the  ruins  of  the  visitor  were  very  apparent ;  to 
climb  up  round  staircases,  to  creep  through  vaults  and  into  dungeons, 
were  not  the  easy  labours  but  the  positive  sports  of  my  younger 
years ;  but  that  time  is  gone  by,  and  I  thought  it  convenient  to  at- 
tempt no  more  than  the  access  to  the  large  and  beautiful  hall  in 
which,  as  it  is  somewhere  described,  an  armed  horseman  might  bran- 
dish his  lance.  The  feeling  of  growing  and  increasing  inability  is 
painful  to  one  like  me,  who  boasted,  in  spite  of  my  infirmity,  great 
boldness  and  dexterity  in  such  feats ;  the  boldness  remains,  but  hand 
and  foot,  grip  and  accuracy  of  step,  have  altogether  failed  me ;  the 
spirit  is  willing  but  the  flesh  is  weak,  and  so  I  must  retreat  into  the 
invalided  corps  and  tell  them  of  my  former  exploits,  which  may  very 
likely  pass  for  lies.  We  drove  to  Dalhousie  Castle,  where  the  gal- 
lant Earl,  who  had  done  so  much  to  distinguish  the  British  name  in 
all  and  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  is  repairing  the  castle  of  his  an- 
cestors, which  of  yore  stood  a  siege  against  John  of  Gaunt.  I  was 
Lord  Dalhousie's  companion  at  school,  where  he  was  as  much  beloved 
by  his  companions  as  he  has  been  ever  respected  by  his  companions- 
in-arms,  and  the  people  over  whom  he  has  been  deputed  to  exercise 
the  authority  of  his  sovereign.  He  was  always  steady,  wise,  and 
generous.  The  old  Castle  of  Dalhousie — potius  Dalwolsey — was  man- 
gled by  a  fellow  called,  I  believe,  Douglas,  who  destroyed,  as  far  as 
in  him  lay,  its  military  and  baronial  character,  and  roofed  it  after  the 
fashion  of  a  poor-house.  The  architect,  Burn,  is  now  restoring  and 
repairing  in  the  old  taste,  and  I  think  creditably  to  his  own  feeling. 
God  bless  the  roof -tree ! 

We  returned  home  through  the  Temple  banks  by  the  side  of  the 
South  Esk,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  to  sec  that  Robert  Dundas  is 
laying  out  his  woods  with  taste,  and  managing  them  with  care.  His 
father  and  uncle  took  notice  of  me  when  I  was  a  "  fellow  of  no  mark 
or  likelihood,"  and  I  am  always  happy  in  finding  myself  in  the  old 
oak  room  at  Arniston,  where  I  have  drunk  many  a  merry  bottle,  and 
in  the  fields  where  I  have  seen  many  a  hare  killed. 

1  The  Rev.  Thomas  Wright  was  minister  01          *  Rev.  John  Clunie,  Mr.  Wright's  predecessor 

Borthwick  from  1817  to  1841,  when  he  was  de-  In  the  parish,  of  whom  many  absurd  stories 

posed  on  the  ground  of  alleged  heresy.     His  were  told,  appears  to  have  been  an  enthusiastic 

works,  The  True  Plan  of  a  Living  Temple,  Morn-  lover  of  Scottish  songs,  as  Burns  in  1794  says  it 

ing  and  Evening  Sacrifice,  Farewell  to  Time,  My  was  owing  to  his  singing  Co1  the  yowfs  tn  tin' 

Old  House,  etc.  .were  published  anonymously.  knowes  so  charmingly  that  he  took  it  down 

Mr.  Wright  lived  in  Edinburgh  for  fourteen  years  from  his  voice,  and  sent  it  to  Mr.  Thomson. — 

after  his  deposition,  much  beloved  and  respect-  Currie's  Burns,  vol.  iv.  p.  160,  and  Chambers's 

ed ;  he  died  on  13th  March,  1855,  in  his  seventy-  Scottish  Songs,  2  vols.  Edin.  1829,  p.  269. 
first  year. 


1827.]  JOURNAL  337 

December  24. — Left  Arniston  after  breakfast  and  arrived  to  dinner 
at  Abbotsford. 

My  reflections  on  entering  my  own  gate  were  of  a  very  different 
and  more  pleasing  cast  than  those  with  which  I  left  my  house  about 
six  weeks  ago.  I  was  then  in  doubt  whether  I  should  fly  my  country 
or  become  avowedly  bankrupt,  and  surrender  my  library  and  house- 
hold furniture,,  with  the  lif erent  of  my  estate,  to  sale.  A  man  of  the 
world  will  say  I  had  better  done  so.  No  doubt  had  I  taken  this 
course  at  once,  I  might  have  employed  the  £25,000  which  I  made 
since  the  insolvency  of  Constable  and  Robinson's  houses  in  compound- 
ing my  debts.  But  I  could  not  have  slept  sound  as  I  now  can,  under 
the  comfortable  impression  of  receiving  the  thanks  of  my  creditors 
and  the  conscious  feeling  of  discharging  my  duty  like  a  man  of  hon- 
our and  honesty.  I  see  before  me  a  long  tedious  and  dark  path,  but 
it  leads  to  true  fame  and  stainless  reputation.  If  I  die  in  the  har- 
rows, as  is  very  likely,  I  shall  die  with  honour;  if  I  achieve  my  task 
I  shall  have  the  thanks  of  all  concerned,  and  the  approbation  of  my 
own  conscience.  And  so  I  think  I  can  fairly  face  the  return  of  Christ- 
mas Day. 

December  25. — I  drove  over  to  Huntly  Burn,  and  saw  the  planta- 
tion which  is  to  be  called  Janeswood,  in  honour  of  my  daughter-in- 
law.  All  looking  well  and  in  order.  Before  dinner,  arrived  Mrs. 
George  Ellis  and  her  nephew  and  niece,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Ellis, 
whom  I  was  delighted  to  see,  as  there  are  a  thousand  kind  recollec- 
tions of  old  days.  Mrs.  George  Ellis  is  less  changed  in  manner  and 
appearance  than  any  one  I  know.  The  gay  and  light-hearted  have  in 
that  respect  superiority  over  those  who  are  of  a  deeper  mould  and 
a  heavier.  There  is  something  even  in  the  slightness  and  elasticity 
of  person  which  outlasts  the  ponderous  strength  which  is  borne  down 
by  its  own  weight.  Colonel  Ellis  is  an  enthusiastic  soldier:  and, 
though  young,  served  in  Spain  and  at  Waterloo. 

"  And  so  we  held  our  Christmastide 
With  mirth  and  burly  cheer." 

December  26. — Colonel  Ellis  and  I  took  a  pretty  long  walk  round 
by  the  glen,  etc.,  where  I  had  an  extraordinary  escape  from  the 
breaking  down  of  a  foot-bridge  as  I  put  my  foot  upon  it.  I  luckily 
escaped  either  breaking  my  leg  by  its  passing  through  the  bridge  in 
so  awkward  a  manner,  or  tearing  it  by  some  one  of  the  hundred  rusty 
nails  through  which  it  fell.  However,  I  was  not,  thanks  to  Heaven, 
hurt  in  the  slightest  degree.  Tom  Purdie,  who  had  orders  to  repair 
the  bridge  long  since,  was  so  scandalised  at  the  consequence  of  his 
negligence  that  the  bridge  is  repaired  by  the  time  I  am  writing  this. 
But  how  the  noiseless  step  of  Fate  dogs  us  in  our  most  seeming  safe 
and  innocent  sports. 

On  returning  home  we  were  joined  by  the  Lord  Chief-Commis- 
sioner, the  Lord  Chief -Baron,  and  William  Clerk,  of  gentlemen  ;  and 

22 


338  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

of  ladies,  Miss  Adam  and  young  Miss  Thomson  of  Charlton.  Also 
the  two  Miss  Kerrs,  Lord  Robert's  daughters,  and  so  behold  us  a  gal- 
lant Christmas  party,  full  of  mirth  and  harmony.  Moreover,  Captain 
John  Ferguson  came  over  from  Huntly  Burn,  so  we  spent  the  day  jo- 
cundly. I  intend  to  take  a  holiday  or  two  while  these  friends  are 
about  us.  I  have  worked  hard  enough  to  merit  it,  and 

" Maggie  will  not  sleep 

For  that,  ere  summer." ' 

December  27. — This  morning  we  took  a  drive  up  the  Yarrow  in 
great  force,  and  perambulated  the  Duchess's  Walk  with  all  the  force 
of  our  company.  The  weather  was  delightful,  the  season  being  con- 
sidered ;  and  Newark  Castle,  amid  its  leafless  trees,  resembled  a  dear 
old  man  who  smiles  upon  the  ruins  which  time  has  spread  around 
him.  It  is  looking  more  venerable  than  formerly,  for  the  repairs 
judiciously  undertaken  have  now  assumed  colouring  congenial  with 
the  old  walls ;  formerly,  they  had  a  raw  and  patchy  appearance.  I 
have  seldom  seen  the  scene  look  better  even  when  summer  smiled 
upon  it. 

I  have  a  letter  from  James  Hogg,  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  asking  me 
to  intercede  with  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  about  his  farm."  He  took 
this  burthen  upon  himself  without  the  advice  of  his  best  friends,  and 
certainly  contrary  to  mine.  From  the  badness  of  the  times  it  would 
have  been  a  poor  speculation  in  any  hands,  especially  in  those  of  a 
man  of  letters,  whose  occupation,  as  well  as  the  society  in  which  it 
involves  him,  [are  so  different].  But  I  hope  this  great  family  will  be 
kind  to  him  ;  if  not,  cela  ne  vaudra  pas  a  moi.  But  I  cannot  and 
ought  not  to  look  for  having  the  same  interest  with  this  gentleman 
which  I  exercised  in  the  days  of  Duke  Charles. 

December  28. — A  demand  from  Cadell  to  prepare  a  revised  copy 
of  the  Tales  of  my  Grandfather  for  the  press.8  I  received  it  with 
great  pleasure,  for  I  always  had  private  hopes  of  that  work.  If  I 
have  a  knack  for  anything  it  is  for  selecting  the  striking  and  inter- 
esting points  out  of  dull  details,  and  hence,  I  myself  receive  so  much 
pleasure  and  instruction  from  volumes  which  are  generally  reputed 
dull  and  uninteresting.  Give  me  facts,  I  will  find  fancy  for  myself. 
The  first  two  volumes  of  these  little  tales  are  shorter  than  the  third 
by  seventy  or  eighty  pages.  Cadell  proposes  to  equalise  them  by 
adding  part  of  vol.  ii.  to  vol.  i.,  and  of  vol.  iii.  to  vol.  ii.  But  then 
vol.  i.  ends  with  the  reign  of  Robert  Bruce,  vol.  ii.  with  the  defeat  of 
Flodden  ;  happy  points  of  pause  which  I  cannot  think  of  disturbing, 
the  first  in  particular,  for  surely  we  ought  to  close  one  volume  at  least 

»  Sec  Buras's  "  Auld  Farmer's  New-year  Sal-  der  the  following  title :  Tales  of  a  Grandfather, 

utation. "  being  stories  taken  from  Scottish  History.  H  u  m- 

a  "  Mount  Benger,"  of  which  Hogg  had  taken  bly  inscribed  to  Hugh  Littlejohn,  Esq.,  in  three 

a  lease  on  his  marriage,  in  1820,  and  found  that  volumes.  Printed  for  Cadell  and  Co.,  Edin- 

he  could  not  make  it  pay.  burgh,  Simpkin  and  Marshall,  London,  and 

>  The  first  series  had  just  been  published  un-  John  Gumming,  Dublin,  1828. 


1827.] 


JOURNAL 


339 


of  Scottish  history  at  a  point  which  leaves  the  kingdom  triumphant 
and  happy ;  and,  alas  !  where  do  her  annals  present  us  with  such  an 
era  excepting  after  Bannockburn  ?  So  I  will  set  about  to  fill  up  the 
volumes,  which  are  too  short,  with  some  additional  matter,  and  so 
diminish  at  least,  if  we  cannot  altogether  remove,  their  unsightly  in- 
equality in  size.  The  rest  of  the  party  went  to  Dryburgh — too  pain- 
ful a  place  of  pilgrimage  for  me.1  I  walked  with  the  Lord  Chief- 
Commissioner  through  our  grounds  at  Huntly  Burn,  and  by  taking 
the  carriage  now  and  then  I  succeeded  in  giving  my  excellent  old 
friend  enough  of  exercise  without  any  fatigue.  We  made  our  visit 
at  Huntly  Burn. 


i  During  Sir  Walter's  illness  in  1818-19  Mr. 
Skene  was  with  him  at  Abbotsford.  and  he  re- 
cords a  curious  incident  regarding  Dryburgh 
which  may  be  given  here: — "For  nearly  two 
years  he  had  to  struggle  for  his  life  with  that 
severe  illness,  which  the  natural  strength  of 
his  constitution  at  length  proved  sufficient  to 
throw  ofT.  With  its  disappearance,  although 
restored  to  health,  disappeared  also  much  of 
his  former  vigour  of  body,  activity,  and  power 
of  undergoing  fatigue,  while  in  personal  ap- 
pearance he  had  advanced  twenty  years  in  the 
downward  course  of  life ;  his  hair  had  become 
bleached  to  pure  white  and  scanty  locks;  the 
fire  of  his  eye  quenched ;  and  his  step,  more 
uncertain,  had  lost  the  vigorous  swinging  gait 
with  which  he  was  used  to  proceed ;  in  fact, 
old  age  had  by  many  years  anticipated  its  usual 
progress  and  marked  how  severely  he  had  suf- 
fered. The  complaint,  that  of  gall-stones,  was 
one  of  extreme  bodily  suffering.  During  his 
severest  attack  he  had  been  alone  at  Abbots- 
ford  with  his  daughter  Sophia,  before  her  mar- 
riage to  Mr.  Lockhart,  and  had  sent  to  say  that 
he  was  desirous  I  should  come  to  him,  which  I 
did,  and  remained  for  ten  days  till  the  attack 
had  subsided.  During  its  course  the  extreme 
violence  of  the  pain  and  spasmodic  contraction 
of  the  muscles  of  the  stomach  were  such  that  I 
scarcely  expected  the  powers  of  endurance 
could  sustain  him  through  the  trial,  and  so 
much  at  times  was  he  exhausted  by  it  as  to 
leave  us  in  alarm  as  to  what  the  result  had 
actually  been.  One  night  I  shall  not  soon  for- 
get :  he  had  been  frequently  and  severely  ill 
during  the  day,  and  having  been  summoned 
to  his  room  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  where 
his  daughter  was  already  standing,  the  picture 
of  deep  despair,  at  his  bed-side,  the  attack 
seemed  intense,  and  we  followed  the  directions 
left  by  the  physician  to  assuage  it.  At  length 
it  seemed  to  subside,  and  he  fell  back  exhaust- 
ed on  the  pillow,  his  eyes  were  closed,  and  his 
countenance  wan  and  livid.  Apparently  with 
corresponding  misgivings,  his  daughter  at  one 
side  of  the  bed  and  I  at  the  other  gazed  for 
some  time  intently  and  in  silence  on  his  coun- 
tenance, and  then  glanced  with  anxious  in- 
quiring looks  to  each  other,  till,  at  length,  hav- 
ing placed  my  finger  on  his  pulse,  to  ascertain 
whether  it  had  actually  ceased  to  throb,  I  shall 
never  forget  the  sudden  beam  which  again 
brightened  his  daughter's  countenance,  and  for 
a  moment  dispelled  the  intense  expression  of 
anxiety  which  had  for  some  time  overspread 
it,  when  Sir  Walter,  aware  of  my  feeling  his 


pulse,  and  the  probable  purpose,  whispered, 
with  a  faint  voice,  but  without  opening  his 
eyes,  '  I  am  not  yet  gone. '  After  some  time  he 
revived,  and  gave  us  a  proof  of  the  mastery  of 
his  mind  over  the  sufferings  of  the  body.  '  Do 
you  recollect,'  he  said  to  me,  'a  small  round 
turret  near  the  gate  of  the  Monastery  of  Aber- 
brothwick,  and  placed  so  as  to  overhang  the 
street?'  Upon  answering  that  I  did  perfectly, 
and  that  a  picturesque  little  morsel  it  was, 
he  said,  'Well,  I  was  over  there  when  a  mob 
had  assembled,  excited  by  some  purpose, which 
I  do  not  recollect,  but  failing  of  their  original 
intention,  they  took  umbrage  at  the  little  ven- 
erable emblem  of  aristocracy,  which  still  bore 
its  weather-stained  head  so  conspicuously  aloft, 
and,  resolving  to  humble  it  with  the  dust,  they 
got  a  stout  hawser  from  a  vessel  in  the  adjoin- 
ing harbour,  which  a  sailor  lad,  climbing  up, 
coiled  round  the  body  of  the  little  turret,  and 
the  rabble  seizing  the  rope  by  both  ends  tugged 
and  pulled,  and  laboured  long  to  strangle  and 
overthrow  the  poor  old  turret,  but  in  vain,  for 
it  withstood  all  their  endeavours.  Now  that  is 
exactly  the  condition  of  my  poor  stomach : 
there  is  a  rope  twisted  round  it,  and  the  ma- 
licious devils  are  straining  and  tugging  at  it, 
and,  faith,  I  could  almost  think  that  I  some- 
times hear  them  shouting  and  cheering  each 
other  to  their  task,  and  when  they  are  at  it  I 
always  have  the  little  turret  and  its  tormentors 
before  my  eyes.'  He  complained  that  partic- 
ular ideas  fixed  themselves  down  upon  his 
mind,  which  he  had  not  the  power  of  shaking 
off ;  but  this  was,  in  fact,  the  obvious  conse- 
quence of  the  quantity  of  laudanum  which  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  swallow  to  allay  the 
spasms. 

"After  he  had  got  some  repose,  and  had  be- 
come rather  better  in  the  morning,  he  said, 
with  a  smile  on  his  countenance,  'If  you  will 
promise  not  to  laugh  at  me  I  have  a  favour  to 
ask.  Do  you  know  I  have  taken  a  childish 
desire  to  see  the  place  where  I  am  to  be  laid 
when  I  go  home,  which  there  is  some  proba- 
bility may  not  now  be  long  delayed.  Now,  as 
I  cannot  go  to  Dryburgh  Abbey — that  is  out 
of  the  question  at  present — it  would  give  me 
much  pleasure  if  you  would  take  a  ride  down 
and  bring  me  a  drawing  of  that  spot,' which  he 
minutely  described  the  position  of,  and  men- 
tioned the  exact  point  where  he  wished  it 
drawn,  that  the  site  of  his  future  grave  might 
appear.  His  wish  was  accordingly  complied 
with. " — Reminiscences. 


340  JOURNAL  [DEC.  1827. 

December  29. — Lord  Chief-Baron,  Lord  Chief-Commissioner,  Miss 
Adam,  Miss  Anstruther  Thomson,  and  William  Clerk  left  us.  We 
read  prayers,  and  afterwards  walked  round  the  terrace. 

I  had  also  time  to  work  hard  on  the  additions  to  the  Tales  of  a 
Grandfather,  vols.  1  and  2.  The  day  passed  pleasantly  over. 

December  30. — The  Fergusons  came  over,  and  we  welcomed  in  the 
New  Year  with  the  usual  forms  of  song  and  flagon. 

Looking  back  to  the  conclusion  of  1826,  I  observe  that  the  last 
year  ended  in  trouble  and  sickness,  with  pressures  for  the  present  and 
gloomy  prospects  for  the  future.  The  sense  of  a  great  privation  so 
lately  sustained,  together  with  the  very  doubtful  and  clouded  nature 
of  my  private  affairs,  pressed  hard  upon  my  mind.  I  am  now  perfectly 
well  in  constitution  ;  and  though  I  am  still  on  troubled  waters,  yet  I 
am  rowing  with  the  tide,  and  less  than  the  continuation  of  my  exer- 
tions of  1827  may,  with  God's  blessing,  carry  me  successfully  through 
1828,  when  we  may  gain  a  more  open  sea,  if  not  exactly  a  safe  port. 
Above  all,  my  children  are  well.  Sophia's  situation  excites  some 
natural,  anxiety  ;  but  it  is  only  the  accomplishment  of  the  burthen 
imposed  on  her  sex.  Walter  is  happy  in  the  view  of  his  majority, 
on  which  matter  we  have  favourable  hopes  from  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington. Anne  is  well  and  happy.  Charles's  entry  upon  life  under 
the  highest  patronage,  and  in  a  line  for  which  I  hope  he  is  qualified, 
is  about  to  take  place  presently. 

For  all  these  great  blessings  it  becomes  me  well  to  be  thankful  to 
God,  who  in  his  good  time  and  good  pleasure  sends  us  good  as  well 
as  evil. 


1828.— JANUARY 

"As  I  walked  by  myself, 
I  talked  to  myself, 
And  thus  myself  said  to  me." 

January  1. — Since  the  20th  November,  1825,  for  two  months 
that  is,  and  two  years,  I  have  kept  this  custom  of  a  diary.  That  it 
has  made  me  wiser  or  better  I  dare  not  say,  but  it  shows  by  its  prog- 
ress that  I  am  capable  of  keeping  a  resolution.  Perhaps  I  should 
not  congratulate  myself  on  this ;  perhaps  it  only  serves  to  show  I  am 
more  a  man  of  method  and  less  a  man  of  originality,  and  have  no 
longer  that  vivacity  of  fancy  that  is  inconsistent  with  regular  labour. 
Still,  should  this  be  the  case,  I  should,  having  lost  the  one,  be  happy 
to  find  myself  still  possessed  of  the  other. 

January  2. —  Ccecce  mentes  hominum. — My  last  entry  records  my 
punctuality  in  keeping  up  my  diary  hitherto ;  my  present  labour, 
commenced  notwithstanding  the  date,  upon  the  9th  January,  is  to 
make  up  my  little  record  betwixt  the  second  and  that  latter  date.  In 
a  word,  I  have  been  several  days  in  arrear  without  rhyme  or  reason, 
— days  too  when  there  was  so  little  to  write  down  that  the  least  jot- 
ting would  have  done  it.  This  must  not  be  in  future. 

January  3. — Our  friends  begin  to  disperse.  Mrs.  Ellis,  who  has 
been  indisposed  for  the  last  two  days,  will  I  hope  bear  her  journey 
to  London  well.  She  is  the  relict  of  my  dear  old  friend  George  El- 
lis,1 who  had  more  wit,  learning,  and  knowledge  of  the  world  than 
would  fit  out  twenty  literati.  The  Hardens  remained  to-day,  and  I 
had  a  long  walk  with  the  laird  up  the  Glen,  and  so  forth.  He  seemed 
a  little  tired,  and  with  all  due  devotion  to  my  Chief,  I  was  not  sorry 
to  triumph  over  some  one  in  point  of  activity  at  my  time  of  day. 

January  4. — Visited  by  Mr.  Stewart  of  Dalguise,  who  came  to 
collect  materials  for  a  description  of  Abbotsford,  to  be  given  with  a 
drawing  in  a  large  work,  Views  of  Gentlemen's  Seats.  Mr.  Stewart  is 
a  well-informed  gentleman-like  young  man,  grave  and  quiet,  yet  pos- 
sessed of  a  sense  of  humour.  I  must  take  care  he  does  not  in  civility 
over-puff  my  little  assemblage  of  curiosities.  Scarce  anything  can 
be  meaner  than  the  vanity  which  details  the  contents  of  China  clos- 
ets,— basins,  ewers,  and  chamberpots.  Horace  Walpole,  with  all  his 
talents,  makes  a  silly  figure  when  he  gives  an  upholsterer's  catalogue 
of  his  goods  and  chattels  at  Strawberry  Hill. 

1  To  whom  S«ott  addressed  the  fifth  canto  of  Marmion. 


342  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

January  5. — This  day  I  began  to  review  Taschereau's  Life  of  Mo- 
liere  for  Mr.  Gillies  who  is  crying  help  for  God's  sake.  Messrs. 
Treuttel  and  Wurtz  offer  guerdon.  I  shall  accept,  because  it  is  doing 
Gillies  no  good  to  let  him  have  my  labour  for  nothing,  and  an  article 
is  about  £100.  In  my  pocket  it  may.  form  a  fund  to  help  this  poor 
gentleman  or  others  at  a  pinch ;  in  his,  I  fear  it  would  only  encour- 
age a  neglect  of  sober  economy.  When  in  his  prosperity  he  asked  me 
whether  there  was  not,  in  my  opinion,  something  interesting  in  a  man 
of  genius  being  in  embarrassed  circumstances.  God  knows  he  has 
had  enough  of  them  since,  poor  fellow  ;  and  it  should  be  remembered 
that  if  he  thus  dallied  with  his  good  fortune,  his  benevolence  to  oth- 
ers was  boundless. 

We  had  the  agreeable  intelligence  of  Sophia  being  safely  deliv- 
ered of  a  girl ;  the  mother  and  child  doing  well.  Praised  be  God  ! 

January  6. — I  have  a  letter  from  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  mak- 
ing no  promises,  but  assuring  me  of  a  favourable  consideration  of 
Walter's  case,  should  an  opening  occur  for  the  majority.  This  same 
step  is  represented  as  the  most  important,  but  so  in  their  time  were 
the  lieutenancy  and  the  troop.  Each  in  its  turn  was  the  step  par  ex- 
cellence. It  appears  that  these  same  steps  are  those  of  a  treadmill, 
where  the  party  is  always  ascending  and  never  gains  the  top.  But 
the  same  simile  would  suit  most  pursuits  in  life. 

The  Misses  Kerr  left  us  on  Friday — two  charming  young  persons, 
well-looked,  well-mannered,  and  well-born ;  above  all,  well-principled. 
They  sing  together  in  a  very  delightful  manner,  and  our  evenings 
are  the  duller  without  them. 

I  am  annoyed  beyond  measure  with  the  idle  intrusion  of  volun- 
tary correspondents ;  each  man  who  has  a  pen,  ink,  and  sheet  of 
foolscap  to  spare,  flies  a  letter  at  me.  I  believe  the  postage  costs  me 
£100  [a  year],  besides  innumerable  franks ;  and  all  the  letters  regard 
the  writer's  own  hopes  or  projects,  or  are  filled  with  unasked  advice 
or  extravagant  requests.  I  think  this  evil  increases  rather  than  di- 
minishes. On  the  other  hand,  I  must  fairly  own  that  I  have  received 
many  communications  in  this  way  worth  all  the  trouble  and  expen.se 
that  the  others  cost  me,  so  I  must  "  lay  the  head  of  the  sow  to  the 
tail  of  the  grice,"  as  the  proverb  elegantly  expresses  itself. 

News  again  of  Sophia  and  baby.  Mrs.  Hughes  thinks  the  infant 
a  beauty.  Johnny  opines  that  it  is  not  very  pretty,  and  grandpapa 
supposes  it  to  be  like  other  new-born  children,  which  are  as  like  as  a 
basket  of  oranges. 

January  7. — Wrought  at  the  review,  and  finished  a  good  lot  of 
it.  Mr.  Stewart  left  us,  amply  provided  with  the  history  of  Abbots- 
ford  and  its  contents.  It  is  a  kind  of  Conundrum  Castle  to  be  sure, 
and  I  have  great  pleasure  in  it,  for  while  it  pleases  a  fantastic  person 
in  the  style  and  manner  of  its  architecture  and  decoration,  it  has  all 
the  comforts  of  a  commodious  habitation. 

Besides  the  review,  I  have  been  for  this  week  busily  employed  in 


1828.]  JOURNAL  343 

revising  for  the  press  the  Tales  of  a  Grandfather.  Cadell  rather 
wished  to  rush  it  out  by  employing  three  different  presses,  but  this  / 
repressed  (smoke  the  pun !).  I  will  not  have  poor  James  Ballantyne 
driven  off  the  plank  to  which  we  are  all  three  clinging.1  I  have 
made  great  additions  to  volume  first,  and  several  of  these  Tales ;  and 
I  care  not  who  knows  it,  I  think  well  of  them.  Nay,  I  will  hash  his- 
tory with  anybody,  be  he  who  he  will.1  I  do  not  know  but  it  would 
be  wise  to  let  romantic  composition  rest,  and  turn  my  mind  to  the 
history  of  England,  France,  and  Ireland,  to  be  da  capo  rotd'd,  as  well 
as  that  of  Scotland.  Men  would  laugh  at  me  as  an  author  tor  Mr. 
Newbery's  shop  in  Paul's  Churchyard.  I  should  care  little  for  that. 
Viryinibus  puerisque.  I  would  as  soon  compose  histories  for  boys 
and  girls,  which  may  be  useful,  as  fictions  for  children  of  a  larger 
growth,  which  can  at  best  be  only  idle  folk's  entertainment.  But 
write  what  I  will,  or  to  whom  I  will,  I  am  doggedly  determined  to 
write  myself  out  of  the  present  scrape  by  any  labour  that  is  fair  and 
honest. 

January  8. — Despatched  my  review  (in  part),  and  in  the  morn- 
ing walked  from  Chiefswood,  all  about  the  shearing  flats,  and  home 
by  the  new  walk,  which  I  have  called  the  Bride's  Walk,  because  Jane 
was  nearly  stuck  fast  in  the  bog  there,  just  after  her  marriage,  in  the 
beginning  of  1825. 

My  post  brings  serious  intelligence  to-day,  and  of  a  very  pleasing 
description.  Longman  and  Company,  with  a  reserve  which  marks 
all  their  proceedings,  suddenly  inform  Mr.  Gibson  that  they  desire 
1000  of  the  8vo  edition  of  St.  Ronan's  Well,  and  the  subsequent 
series  of  Novels  thereunto  belonging,  for  that  they  have  only  seven 
remaining,  and  wish  it  to  be  sent  to  their  printers,  and  pushed 
out  in  three  months.  Thus  this  great  house,  without  giving  any 
previous  notice  of  the  state  of  the  sale,  expect  all  to  be  boot  and  sad- 
dle, horse  and  away,  whenever  they  give  the  signal.  In  the  present 
case  this  may  do,  because  I  will  make  neither  alteration  nor  addition 
till  our  grand  opus,  the  Improved  Edition,  goes  to  press.  But  ought 
we  to  go  to  press  with  this  1000  copies  knowing  that  our  project 
will  supersede  and  render  equivalent  to  waste  paper  such  of  them  as 
may  not  reach  the  public  before  our  plan  is  publicly  known  and  be- 
gins to  operate  ?  I  have,  I  acknowledge,  doubt  as  to  this.  No 
doubt  I  feel  perfectly  justified  in  letting  Longman  and  Co.  look  to 

1  See  letter  to  R.  Cadell,  Life,  vol.  is.  p.  209.        the  library,  the  boudoir,  the  school-room,  and 

the  nursery;  it  is  adopted  as  the  happiest  of 

2  "The  first  Tales  of  a  Grandfather  [as  has  manuals,  not  only  in  Scotland,  but  wherever 
already  been  said]  appeared  early  in  December,  the  English  tongue  is  spoken ;  nay,  it  is  to  be 
and  their  reception  was  more  rapturous  than  seen  in  the  hands  of  old  and  young  all  over  the 
that  of  any  one  of  his  works  since  Ivanhoe.    He  civilised  world,  and  has,  I  have  little  doubt, 
had  solved  for  the  first  time  the  problem  of  extended  the  knowledge  of  Scottish  history  in 
narrating  history,  so  as  at  once  to  excite  and  quarters  where  little  or  no  interest  had  ever 
gratify  the  curiosity  of  youth,  and  please  and  before  been  awakened  as  to  any  other  parts  of 
instruct  the  wisest  of  mature  minds.    The  pop-  that  subject  except  those  immediately  connect- 
ularity  of  the  book  has  grown  with  every  year  ed  with  Mary  Stuart  and  the  Chevalier."— 
that  has  since  elapsed;  it  is  equally  prized  in  Life,  vol.  is.  pp.  186-7. 


344  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

their  own  interest,  since  they  have  neither  consulted  me  nor  at- 
tended to  mine.  But  the  loss  might  extend  to  the  retail  booksellers  ; 
and  to  hurt  the  men  through  whom  my  works  are  ultimately  to  find 
their  way  to  the  public  would  be  both  unjust  and  impolitic.  On  the 
contrary,  if  the  St.  Ronan  Series  be  hurried  out  immediately,  there  is 
time  enough  perhaps  to  sell  it  off  before  the  Improved  Edition  ap- 
pears. In  the  meantime  it  appears  that  the  popularity  of  these  works 
is  increasing  rather  than  diminishing,  that  the  measure  of  securing  the 
copyrights  was  most  judicious,  and  that,  with  proper  management, 
things  will  work  themselves  round.  Successful  first  editions  arc 
good,  but  they  require  exertion  and  imply  fresh  risk  of  reputation. 
But  repeated  editions  tell  only  to  the  agreeable  part  of  literature.1 

Longman  and  Company  have  also  at  length  opened  their  oracular 
jaws  pn  the  subject  of  Bonaparte,  and  acknowledged  its  rapid  sale, 
and  the  probable  exhaustion  of  the  present  edition. 

These  tidings,  with  the  success  of  the  Tales,  "speak  of  Africa 
and  golden  joys."  a  But  the  tidings  arriving  after  dinner  rather  dis- 
composed me.  In  the  evening  I  wrote  to  Cadell  and  Ballantyue  at 
length,  proposing  a  meeting  at  my  house  on  Tuesday  first,  to  hold  a 
privy  council. 

January  9.  —  My  first  reflection  was  on  Napoleon.  I  will  not  be 
hurried  in  my  corrections  of  that  work;  and  that  I  may  not  be  so,  I 
will  begin  them  the  instant  that  I  have  finished  the  review.  It  makes 
me  tremble  to  think  of  the  mass  of  letters  I  have  to  look  through  in 
order  to  select  all  those  which  affect  the  subject  of  Napoleon,  and 
which,  in  spite  of  numerous  excellent  resolutions,  I  have  never  sepa- 
rated from  the  common  file  from  which  they  are  now  to  be  selected. 
Confound  them  !  but  they  are  confounded  already.  Indolence  is  a 
delightful  indulgence,  but  at  what  a  rate  we  purchase  it  !  To-day 
we  go  to  Mertoun,  and  having  spent  some  time  in  making  up  my 
Journal  to  this  length,  and  in  a  chat  with  Captain  John,  who  drop- 
ped in,  I  will  presently  set  to  the  review  —  knock  it  off,  if  possible, 
before  we  start  at  five  o'clock.  To-morrow,  when  I  return,  we  will 
begin  the  disagreeable  task  of  a  thorough  rummage  of  papers, 


1  It  may  be  remarked  at  this  point  how  the  righto  of  Sir  Walter  Scott'i  works,  including  stereotype, 

value  of  these  works  has  been  sustained  by  ?.tc*ls.  "<*>&-?**,  etc.,  to  •  very  large  meeting  of  the  pub- 

the  public  demand  during  the  term  of  legal  {^Vad'reLTfrl  fe^**  LTot  %?t!S*& 

copyright  and  since  that  date.    That  of  Waver-  tor,  we  believe,  £15,500.   This  sum  did  not  imiu.ie  the 

ley  expired  in  1856,  and  the  Others  at  forty-two  stock  on  hand,  valued  at  £10,000.     However,  the  fact  is 

years  from  the  date  Of  publication.  that.  the  Trustees  have  virtually  refused  £45,000  for  the 

On  December  19,  1827,  the  copyright  of  the  8tock'  c°Pyri«I"».  «*••  °f  s^"'8  work«-" 

Novels  from  Waverley  to  Quentin  Durward  was  Messrs.  A.  &  C.  Black  in  1851  purchased  the 

acquired,  as  mentioned  in  the  text,  for  £8400  property  at  nearly  the  same  price,  viz.  :—  Copy- 

as  a  joint  purchase.    Five  years  later,  viz.,  in  right,  £17,000;  stock,  £10,000  —  in  all,  £27,000. 

1832,  Mr.  Cadell  purchased  from  Sir  Walter's  Mr.  Francis  Black,  who  has  kindly  given  me 

representatives,  for  about  £40,000,  the  author's  information  regarding  the  sale  of  these  works, 

share  in  stock  and  entire  copyrights  !  tells  me  that  of  the  volumes  of  one  of  the 

Nineteen  years  afterwards,  viz.,  on  the  26th  cheaper  issues  about  three  millions  have  been 

March,  1851  (after  Mr.  Cadell's  death),  the  stock  sold  since  1851.    This,  of  course,  is  independent 

and  copyrights  were  exposed  for  sale  by  auc-  of  other  publishers'  editions  in  Great  Britain, 

lion  in  London,  regarding  which  a  Trade  Jour-  the  Continent,  and  America. 
nal  of  the  date  says  — 

"  Mr.  Hodden  offered  for  «al«  the  whole  of  the  copy-  "  In  Henry  IV.,  Act  V.  Sc.  3. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  345 

books,  and  documents.  My  character  as  a  man  of  letters,  and  as  a 
man  of  honour,  depends  on  my  making  that  work  as  correct  as  pos- 
sible. It  has  succeeded,  notwithstanding  every  effort  here  and  in 
France1  to  put  it  down,  and  it  shall  not  lose  ground  for  want  of  back- 
ing. We  went  to  dine  and  pass  the  night  at  Mertoun,  where  we  met 
Sir  John  Pringle,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baillie  Mellerstain,  and  their  daugh- 
ters. 

January  10. — When  I  rose  this  morning  the  weather  was  changed 
and  the  ground  covered  with  snow.  I  am  sure  it's  winter  fairly. 
We  returned  from  Mertoun  after  breakfast  through  an  incipient 
snowstorm,  coming  on  partially,  and  in  great  flakes,  the  sun  bursting 
at  intervals  through  the  clouds.  At  last  Die  Wolken  laufen  zusammen. 
We  made  a  slow  journey  of  it  through  the  swollen  river  and  heavy 
roads,  but  here  we  are  at  last. 

I  am  rather  sorry  we  expect  friends  to-day,  though  these  friends 
be  the  good  Fergusons.  I  have  a  humour  for  work,  to  which  the 
sober,  sad  uniformity  of  a  snowy  day  always  particularly  disposes 
me,  and  I  am  sure  I  will  get  poor  Gillies  off  my  hand,  at  least  if  I 
had  morning  and  evening.  Then  I  would  set  to  work  with  arrang- 
ing everything  for  these  second  editions  of  Napoleon,  The  Romances, 
etc.,  which  must  be  soon  got  afloat.  I  must  say  "  the  wark  gangs 
bonnily  on."*  Well,  I  will  ring  for  coals, mend  my  pen,  and  try  what 
can  be  done. 

I  wrought  accordingly  on  Gillies's  review  for  the  Life  of  Moliere, 
a  gallant  subject.  I  am  only  sorry  I  have  not  time  to  do  it  justice. 
It  would  have  required  a  complete  re-perusal  of  his  works,  for  which, 
alas  !  I  have  no  leisure. 

"For  long,  though  pleasant,  is  the  way, 
And  life,  alas !  allows  but  one  ill  winter's  day." 

Which  is  too  literally  my  own  case. 

January  11. — Renewed  my  labour,  finished  the  review,  talis  qualis, 
and  sent  it  off.  Commenced  then  my  infernal  work  of  putting  to 
rights.  Much  cry  and  little  woo',  as  the  deil  said  when  he  shore  the 
sow.  But  I  have  detected  one  or  two  things  that  had  escaped  me, 
and  may  do  more  to-morrow.  I  observe  by  a  letter  from  Mr.  Cadell 
that  I  had  somewhat  misunderstood  his  last.  It  is  he,  not  Longman, 
that  wishes  to  publish  the  thousand  copies  of  St.  Ronan's  Series,  and 
there  is  no  immediate  call  for  Napoleon.  This  makes  little  differ- 
ence in  my  computation.  The  pressing  necessity  of  correction  is 

1  In  an  interesting  letter  to  Scott  from  Feni-  you  in  my  presence  as  having  a  low,  vulgar 
more  Cooper,  dated  Sept.  12th,  1827,  he  tells  style,  very  much  such  an  one  as  characterised 
him  "that  the  French  abuse  you  a  little,  but  the  pen  of  Shakespeare !" 
as  they  began  to  do  this,  to  my  certain  knowl- 
edge, five  months  before  the  book  was  pub-  *  A  proverb  having  its  rise  from  an  excla- 
lished,  you  have  no  great  reason  to  regard  mation  made  by  Mr.  David  Dick,  a  Covenanter, 
their  criticism.      It  would  be  impossible  to  on  witnessing  the  execution  of  some  of  41on- 
write  the  truth  on  such  a  subject  and  please  trose's  followers. — Wishart's  Montrose,  quoting 
this  nation.    One  frothy  gentleman  denounced  from  Guthrie's  Memoirs,  p.  182. 


346  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

put  off  for  two  or  three  months  probably,  and  I  have  time  to  turn 
myself  to  the  Chronicles.  I  do  not  much  like  the  task,  but  when  did 
I  ever  like  labour  of  any  kind  ?  My  hands  were  fully  occupied  to- 
day with  writing  letters  and  adjusting  papers — both  a  great  bore. 

The  news  from  London  assure  a  change  of  Ministry.  The  old 
Tories  come  in  play.  But  I  hope  they  will  compromise  nothing. 
There  is  'little  danger  since  Wellington  takes  the  lead. 

January  12. — My  expenses  have  been  considerably  more  than  I 
expected ;  but  I  think  that,  having  done  so  much,  I  need  not  under- 
go the  mortification  of  giving  up  Abbotsford  and  parting  with  my 
old  habits  and  servants.1 

January  13,  [Edinburgh], — We  had  a  slow  and  tiresome  retreat 
from  Abbotsford  through  the  worst  of  weather,  half -sleet,  half-snow. 
Dined  with  the  Royal  Society  Club,  and,  being  an  anniversary,  sat 
till  nine  o'clock,  instead  of  half-past  seven. 

January  14. — I  read  Cooper's  new  novel,  The  Red  Rover;  the 
current  of  it  rolls  entirely  upon  the  ocean.  Something  there  is  too 
much  of  nautical  language ;  in  fact,  it  overpowers  everything  else. 
But,  so  people  once  take  an  interest  in  a  description,  they  will  swal- 
low a  great  deal  which  they  do  not  understand.  The  sweet  word 
"  Mesopotamia "  has  its  charm  in  other  compositions  as  well  as  in 
sermons.  He  has  much  genius,  a  powerful  conception  of  character, 
and  force  of  execution.  The  same  ideas,  I  see,  recur  upon  him  that 
haunt  other  folks.  The  graceful  form  of  the  spars,  and  the  tracery 
of  the  ropes  and  cordage  against  the  sky,  is  too  often  dwelt  upon._ 

January  15. — This  day  the  Court  sat  down.  I  missed  my  good 
friend  Colin  Mackenzie,  who  proposes  to  retire,  from  indifferent 
health.  A  better  man  never  lived — eager  to  serve  every  one — a  safe- 
guard over  all  public  business  which  came  through  his  hands.  As 
Deputy-Keeper  of  the  Signet  he  will  be  much  missed.  He  had  a  pa- 
tience in  listening  to  every  one  which  is  of  the  [highest  consequence] 
in  the  management  of  a  public  body ;  for  many  men  care  less  to  gain 
their  point  than  they  do  to  play  the  orator,  and  be  listened  to  for  a 
certain  time.  This  done,.and  due  quantity  of  personal  consideration 
being  gained,  the  individual  orator  is  usually  satisfied  with  the  rea- 
sons of  the  civil  listener,  who  has  suffered  him  to  enjoy  his  hour  of 
consequence.  I  attended  the  Court,  but  there  was  very  little  for 
me  to  do.  The  snowy  weather  has  annoyed  my  fingers  with  chil- 
blains, and  I  have  a  threatening  of  rheumatism  —  which  Heaven 
avert! 

James  Ballantyne  and  Mr.  Cadell  dined  with  me  to-day  and  talked 
me  into  a  good  humour  with  my  present  task,  which  I  had  laid  aside 

1  Scott's  biographer  records  his  admiration  wages.    Old  Peter,  who  had  been  for  flve-and- 

for  the  manner  in  which  all  his  dependants  twenty  years  a  dignified  coachman,  was  now 

met  the  reverse  of  their  master's  fortunes.  ploughman  in  ordinary;  only  putting  his  horsea 

The  butler,  instead  of  being  the  easy  chief  of  a  to  the  carriage  on  high  and  rare  occasions; 

large  establishment,  was  now  doing  half  the  and  so  on  with  all  that  remained  of  the  an- 

work  of  the  house  at  probably  half  his  former  cieut  train,  and  all  seemed  happier. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  347 

in  disgust.  It  must,  however,  be  done,  though  I  am  loth  to  begin  to 
it  again. 

January  16. — Again  returned  early,  and  found  my  way  home 
with  some  difficulty.  The  weather  —  a  black  frost  powdered  with 
snow,  my  fingers  suffering  much  and  my  knee  very  stiff.  When  I 
came  home,  I  set  to  work,  but  not  to  the  Chronicles.  I  found  a  less 
harassing  occupation  in  correcting  a  volume  or  two  of  Napoleon  in  a 
rough  way.  My  indolence,  if  I  can  call  it  so,  is  of  a  capricious  kind. 
It  never  makes  me  absolutely  idle,  but  very  often  inclines  me — as  it 
were  from  mere  contradiction's  sake — to  exchange  the  task  of  the 
day  for  something  which  I  am  not  obliged  to  do  at  the  moment,  or 
perhaps  not  at  all. 

January  17. — My  knee  so  swelled  and  the  weather  so  cold  that  I 
stayed  from  Court.  I  nibbled  for  an  hour  or  two  at  Napoleon,  then 
took  handsomely  to  my  gear,  and  wrote  with  great  ease  and  fluency 
six  pages  of  the  Chronicles.  If  they  are  but  tolerable  I  shall  be  sat- 
isfied. In  fact,  such  as  they  are,  they  must  do,  for  I  shall  get  warm 
as  I  work,  as  has  happened  on  former  occasions.  The  fact  is,  I  scarce 
know  what  is  to  succeed  or  not ;  but  this  is  the  consequence  of  writ- 
ing too  much  and  too  often.  I  must  get  some  breathing  space.  But 
how  is  that  to  be  managed?  There  is  the  rub. 

January  18-19. — Remained  still  at  home,  and  wrought  hard.  The 
fountain  trickles  free  enough,  but  God  knows  whether  the  waters  will 
be  worth  drinking.  However,  I  have  finished  a  good  deal  of  hard 
work, — that's  the  humour  of  it. 

January  20. — Wrought  hard  in  the  forenoon.  At  dinner  we  had 
Helen  Erskine, — whom  circumstances  lead  to  go  to  India  in  search 
of  the  domestic  affection  which  she  cannot  find  here, — Mrs.  George 
Swinton,  and  two  young  strangers :  one,  a  son  of  my  old  friend  Dr. 
Stoddart  of  the  Times,  a  well-mannered  and  intelligent  youth,  the 
other  that  unnatural  character,  a  tame  Irishman,  resembling  a  formal 
Englishman. 

January  21. — This  morning  I  sent  J.  B.  as  far  as  page  forty -three, 
being  fully  two-thirds  of  the  volume.  The  rest  I  will  drive  on,  trust- 
ing that,  contrary  to  the  liberated  posthorse  in  John  Gilpin,  the  lum- 
ber of  the  wheels  rattling  behind  me  may  put  spirit  in  the  poor  brute 
who  has  to  drag  it. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moscheles  were  here  at  breakfast.  She  is  a  very 
pretty  little  Jewess ;  he  one  of  the  greatest  performers  on  the  piano- 
forte of  the  day, — certainly  most  surprising  and,  what  I  rather  did 
not  expect,  pleasing. 

I  have  this  day  the  melancholy  news  of  Glengarry's  death,  and 
was  greatly  shocked.  The  eccentric  parts  of  his  character,  the  pre- 
tensions which  he  supported  with  violence  and  assumption  of  rank 
and  authority,  were  obvious  subjects  of  censure  and  ridicule,  which 
in  some  points  were  not  undeserved.  He  played  the  part  of  a  chief- 
tain too  nigh  the  life  to  be  popular  among  an  altered  race,  with  whom 


348  JOURNAL  1828.] 

he  thought,  felt,  and  acted,  I  may  say  in  right  and  wrong,  as  a  chief- 
tain of  a  hundred  years  since  would  have  done,  while  his  conduct 
was  viewed  entirely  by  modern  eyes,  and  tried  by  modern  rules.1 

January  22. — I  am,  I  find,  in  serious  danger  of  losing  the  habit 
of  my  Journal;  and,  having  carried  it  on  so  long,  that  would  be 
pity.  But  I  am  now,  on  the  1st  February,  fishing  for  the  lost  recol- 
lections of  the  days  since  the  21st  January.  Luckily  there  is  not 
very  much  to  remember  or  forget,  and  perhaps  the  best  way  would 
be  to  skip  and  go  on. 

January  23. — Being  a  Teind  day,  I  had  a  good  opportunity  of 
work.  I  should  have  said  I  had  given  breakfast  on  the  21st  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Moscheles ;  she  a  beautiful  young  creature,  "  and  one  that 
adores  me,"  as  Sir  Toby  says,8 — that  is,  in  my  poetical  capacity  ; — in 
fact,  a  frank  and  amiable  young  person.  I  liked  Mr.  Moscheles'  play- 
ing better  than  I  could  have  expected,  considering  my  own  bad  ear. 
But  perhaps  I  flatter  myself,  and  think  I  understood  it  better  than  I 
did.  Perhaps  I  have  not  done  myself  justice,  and  know  more  of  mu- 
sic than  I  thought  I  did.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  his  variations  have 
a  more  decided  style  of  originality  than  those  I  have  commonly  heard, 
which  have  all  the  signs  of  a  da  capo  rota. 

Dined  at  Sir  Archibald  Campbell's,8  and  drank  rather  more  wine 
than  usual  in  a  sober  way.  To  be  sure,  it  was  excellent,  and  some 
old  acquaintances  proved  a  good  excuse  for  the  glass. 

January  24. — I  took  a  perverse  fit  to-day,  and  went  off  to  write 
notes,  et  cetera,  on  Guy  Mannering.  This  was  perverse  enough  ;  but 
it  was  a  composition  between  humour  and  duty ;  and  as  such,  let  it 
pass. 

January  25. — I  went  on  working,  sometimes  at  my  legitimate  la- 
bours, sometimes  at  my  jobs  of  Notes,  but  still  working  faithfully,  in 
good  spirits,  and  contented. 

Huntly  Gordon  has  disposed  of  the  two  sermons*  to  the  book- 
seller Colourn  for  £250 — well  sold,  I  think — and  is  to  go  forth  im- 
mediately. The  man  is  a  puffing  quack ;  but  though  I  would  rather 
the  thing  had  not  gone  there,  and  far  rather  that  it  had  gone  no- 
where, yet,  hang  it !  if  it  makes  the  poor  lad  easy,  what  needs  I  fret 
about  it  ?  After  all,  there  would  be  little  gain  in  doing  a  kind  thing, 
if  you  did  not  suffer  pain  or  inconvenience  upon  the  score. 

January  26. — Being  Saturday,  attended  Mr.  Moscheles'  concert, 
and  was  amused ;  the  more  so  that  I  had  Mrs.  M.  herself  to  flirt  a  lit- 
tle with.  To  have  so  much  beauty  as  she  really  possesses,  and  to  be 
accomplished  and  well-read,  she  is  an  unaffected  and  pleasant  person. 
Mr.  Moscheles  gives  lessons  at  two  guineas  by  the  hour,  and  he  has 

»  Ante,  p.  76.  mons  were  written  are  fully  detailed  in  the 

a  TWiftA  vi««  Art  ii  <*f  q  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  193,  206.    They  were  issued  in 

a  thin  octavo  vol.  under  the  title  Religious  Di* 

a  feir  Archibald  Campbell  of  Succoth.    He      courses,  by  a  Layman,  with  a  short   Preface 
lived  at  1  Park  Place.  signed  W.  S.    There  were  more  editions  than 

*  The  circumstances  under  which  these  ser-      one  published  during  1828. 


1828.J  JOURNAL  349 

actually  found  scholars  in  this  poor  country.  One  of  them  at  least 
(Mrs.  John  Murray)  may  derive  advantage  from  his  instructions;  for 
I  observe  his  mode  of  fingering  is  very  peculiar,  as  he  seems  to  me 
to  employ  the  fingers  of  the  same  hand  in  playing  the  melody  and 
managing  the  bass  at  the  same  time,  which  is  surely  most  uncommon. 

I  presided  at  the  Celtic  Society's  dinner  to-day,  and  proposed 
Glengarry's  memory,  which,  although  there  had  been  a  rough  dispute 
with  the  Celts  and  the  poor  Chief,  was  very  well  received.  I  like  to 
see  men  think  and  bear  themselves  like  men.  There  were  fewer  in 
the  tartan  than  usual — which  was  wrong. 

January  27. — Wrought  manfully  at  the  Chronicles  all  this  day 
and  have  nothing  to  jot  down;  only  I  forgot  that  I  lost  my  lawsuit 
some  day  last  week  or  the  week  before.  The  fellow  therefore  gets 
his  money,  plack  and  bawbee,  but  it's  always  a  troublesome  claim 
settled,1  and  there  can  be  no  other  of  the  same  kind,  as  every  othe.» 
creditor  has  accepted  the  composition  of  7s.  in  the  £,  which  my  exer- 
tions have  enabled  me  to  pay  them.  About  £20,000  of  the  fund  had 
been  created  by  my  own  exertions  since  the  bankruptcy  took  place, 
and  I  had  a  letter  from  Donald  Home,  by  commission  of  the  credit- 
ors, to  express  their  sense  of  my  exertions  in  their  behalf.  All  this 
is  consolatory. 

January  28. — I  am  in  the  scrape  of  sitting  for  my  picture,  and 
had  to  repair  for  two  hours  to-day  to  Mr.  Colvin  Smith — Lord  Gil- 
lies's  nephew.  The  Chief  Baron2  had  the  kindness  to  sit  with  me 
great  part  of  the  time,  as  the  Chief  Commissioner  had  done  on  a  late 
occasion.  The  picture  is  for  the  Chief  Commissioner,  and  the  Chief 
Baron  desires  a  copy.  I  trust  it  will  be  a  good  one.  At  home  in 
the  evening,  and  wrote.  I  am  well  on  before  the  press,  notwithstand- 
ing late  hours,  lassitude,  and  laziness.  I  have  read  Cooper's  Prairie 
— better,  I  think,  than  his  Red  Rover,  in  which  you  never  get  foot  on 
shore,  and  to  understand  entirely  the  incidents  of  the  story  it  re- 
quires too  much  knowledge  of  nautical  language.  It's  very  clever, 
though.3 

January  29. — This  day  at  the  Court,  and  wrote  letters  at  home, 
besides  making  a  visit  or  two — rare  things  with  me.  I  have  an  in- 
vitation from  Messrs.  Saunders  and  Otley,  booksellers,  offering  me 
from  £1500  to  £2000  annually  to  conduct  a  journal ;  but  I  am  their 
humble  servant.  I  am  too  indolent  to  stand  to  that  sort  of  work, 
and  I  must  preserve  the  undisturbed  use  of  my  leisure,  and  possess 
my  soul  in  quiet.  A  large  income  is  not  my  object ;  I  must  clear 
my  debts ;  and  that  is  to  be  done  by  writing  things  of  which  I  can 
retain  the  property.  Made  my  excuses  accordingly. 

January  30. — After  Court  hours  I  had  a  visit  from  Mr.  Charles 

1  Ante,  p.  317.  in  America,  but  he  was  not  successful,  and  he 

2  a;-  cnm,,»i  CV,«^T,O,^  writes  to  Scott  in  the  autumn  of  1827:  "This, 
Sir  Samuel  Shepherd.  gir  jg  a  pitiful  account  ofa  project  from  which' 

3  Mr.  Cooper  did  not  relax  his  efforts  to  se-      I  expected  something  more  just  to  you  and 
cure  Scott  an  interest  in  his  works  reprinted      creditable  to  my  country. " 


350  JOURNAL  [JAN.  1828. 

Heath,  the  engraver,  accompanied  by  a  son  of  Reynolds  the  drama- 
tist. His  object  was  to  engage  me  to  take  charge  as  editor  of  a  year- 
ly publication  called  The  Keepsake,  of  which  the  plates  are  beyond 
comparison  beautiful,  but  the  letter-press  indifferent  enough.  He 
proposed  £800  a  year  if  I  would  become  editor,  and  £400  if  I  would 
contribute  from  seventy  to  one  hundred  pages.  I  declined  both,  but 
told  him  I  might  give  him  some  trifling  thing  or  other,  and  asked 
the  young  men  to  breakfast  the  next  day.  Worked  away  in  the 
evening  and  completed,  "in  a  way  and  in  a  manner,"  the  notes  on 
Guy  Mannering.  The  first  volume  of  the  Chronicles  is  now  in  Bal- 
lantyne's  hands,  all  but  a  leaf  or  two.  Am  I  satisfied  with  my  exer- 
tions ?  So  so.  Will  the  public  be  pleased  with  them  ?  Umph !  I 
doubt  the  bubble  will  burst.  While  it  is  current,  however,  it  is  clear 
I  should  stand  by  it.  Each  novel  of  three  volumes  brings  £4000, 
and  I  remain  proprietor  of  the  mine  when  the  first  ore  is  cropped 
out.  This  promises  a  good  harvest,  from  what  we  have  experienced. 
Now,  to  become  a  stipendiary  editor  of  a  New-Year's  Gift-Book  is  not 
to  be  thought  of,  nor  could  I  agree  to  work  for  any  quantity  of  sup- 
ply to  such  a  publication.  Even  the  pecuniary  view  is  not  flattering, 
though  these  gentlemen  meant  it  should  be  so.  But  one  hundred  of 
their  close-printed  pages,  for  which  they  offer  £400,  is  not  nearly 
equal  to  one  volume  of  a  novel,  for  which  I  get  £1300,  and  have  the 
reversion  of  the  copyright.  No,  I  may  give  them  a  trifle  for  nothing, 
or  sell  them  an  article  for  a  round  price,  but  no  permanent  engage- 
ment will  I  make.  Being  the  Martyrdom,  there  was  no  Court.  I 
wrought  away  with  what  appetite  I  could. 

January  31. — I  received  the  young  gentlemen  to  breakfast,  and 
expressed  my  resolution,  which  seemed  to  disappoint  them,  as  per- 
haps they  expected  I*  should  have  been  glad  of  such  an  offer.  How- 
ever, I  have  since  thought  there  are  these  rejected  parts  of  the  Chron- 
icles, which  Cadell  and  Ballantyne  criticised  so  severely,  which  might 
well  enough  make  up  a  trifle  of  this  kind,  and  settle  the  few  ac- 
counts which,  will  I  nill  I,  have  crept  in  this  New  Year.  So  I  have 
kept  the  treaty  open.  If  I  give  them  100  pages  I  should  expect 
£500. 

I  was  late  at  the  Court  and  had  little  time  to  write  any  till  after 
dinner,  and  then  was  not  in  the  vein ;  so  commentated. 


FEBRUARY 

February  1. — I  had  ray  two  youths  again  to  breakfast,  but  I  did 
not  say  more  about  my  determination,  save  that  I  would  help  them 
if  I  could  make  it  convenient.  The  Chief  Commissioner  has  agreed 
to  let  Heath  have  his  pretty  picture  of  a  Study  at  Abbotsford,  by 
Edwin  Landseer,  in  which  old  Maida  occurs.  The  youth  Reynolds 
is  what  one  would  suppose  his  father's  son  to  be,  smart  and  for- 
ward, and  knows  the  world.  I  suppose  I  was  too  much  fagged  with 
sitting  in  the  Court  to-day  to  write  hard  after  dinner,  but  I  did  work, 
however. 

February  2. — Corrected  proofs,  which  are  now  nearly  up  with  me. 
This  day  was  an  idle  one,  for  I  remained  in  Court  till  one,  and  sat 
for  my  picture  till  half-past  three  to  Mr.  Smith.  He  has  all  the 
steadiness  and  sense  in  appearance  which  his  cousin  R.  P.  G.  lacks.1 
Whether  he  has  genius  or  no,  I  am  no  judge.  My  own  portrait  is 
like,  but  I  think  too  broad  about  the  jowls,  a  fault  which  they  all  fall 
into,  as  I  suppose,  by  placing  their  subject  upon  a  high  stage  and 
looking  upwards  to  them,  which  must  foreshorten  the  face.  The 
Chief  Baron  and  Chief  Commissioner  had  the  goodness  to  sit  with 
me. 

Dressed  and  went  with  Anne  to  dine  at  Pinkie  House,  where  I 
met  the  President,2  Lady  Charlotte,  etc. ;  above  all,  Mrs.  Scott  of 
Gala,  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  some  time.  We  had  much  fun,  and 
I  was,  as  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek  says,  in  good  fooling.3  A  lively 
French  girl,  a  governess  I  think,  but  very  pretty  and  animated, 
seemed  much  amused  with  the  old  gentleman.  Home  at  eleven 
o'clock. 

By  the  by,  Sir  John  Hope  had  found  a  Roman  eagle  on  his  estate 
in  Fife  with  sundry  of  those  pots  and  coffee-pots,  so  to  speak,  which 
are  so  common :  but  the  eagle  was  mislaid,  so  I  did  not  see  it. 

February  3. — I  corrected  proofs  and  wrote  this  morning, — but 
slowly,  heavily,  lazily.  There  was  a  mist  on  my  mind  which  my  ex- 
ertions could  not  dispel.  I  did  not  get  two  pages  finished,  but  I  cor- 
rected proofs  and  commentated. 

February  4. — Wrote  a  little  and  was  obliged  to  correct  the  Mo- 
liere  affair  for  R.  P.  G.  I  think  his  plan  cannot  go  on  much  longer 

i  Mr.   Colvin   Smith  painted  in  all   about      of  the  persons  who  commissioned  them  is  giv- 
twenty  portraits  of  Sir  Walter,  for  seven  of      en  at  p.  73  of  the  Centenary  Catalogue. 
which  he  obtained  occasional  sittings.    A  list          a  The  Right  Hon.  Charles  Hope. 

3  Twelfth  Night,  Act  n.  Sc.  2. 


352  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

with  so  much  weakness  at  the  helm.  A  clever  fellow  would  make  it 
take  the  field  with  a  vengeance,  but  poor  G.  will  run  in  debt  with  the 
booksellers  and  let  all  go  to  the  devil.  I  sent  a  long  letter  to  Lock- 
hart,  received  from  Horace  Smith,  very  gentlemanlike  and  well-writ- 
ten, complaining  that  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt  had  mixed  him  up,  in  his  Life 
of  Byron,  with  Shelley  as  if  he  had  shared  his  irreligious  opinions. 
Leigh  Hunt  afterwards  at  the  request  of  Smith  published  a  swagger- 
ing contradiction  of  the  inference  to  be  derived  from  the  way  in  which 
he  has  named  them  together.  Horatio  Smith  seems  not  to  have  re- 
lied upon  his  disclamation,  as  he  has  requested  me  to  mention  the 
thing  to  John  Lockhart,  and  to  some  one  influential  about  Ebony, 
which  I  have  done  accordingly. 

February  5. — Concluded  the  first  volume  before  breakfast.  I  am 
but  indifferently  pleased ;  either  the  kind  of  thing  is  worn  out,  or  I 
am  worn  out  myself,  or,  lastly,  I  am  stupid  for  the  time.  The  book 
must  be  finished,  however.  Cadell  is  greatly  pleased  with  annota- 
tions intended  for  the  new  edition  of  the  Waverley  series.  I  believe 
that  work  must  be  soon  sent  to  press,  which  would  put  a  powerful 
wheel  in  motion  to  clear  the  ship.  I  went  to  the  Parliament  House, 
and  in  return  strolled  into  Cadell's,  being  rather  anxious  to  prolong 
my  walk,  for  I  fear  the  constant  sitting  for  so  many  hours.  When  I 
returned,  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  came  in.  He  is  looking  very  well, 
and  stout,  but  melancholy  about  his  sister,  Lady  Charlotte  Stopford. 
He  is  fitting  up  a  part  of  Bowhill  and  intends  to  shoot  there  this  year. 
God  send  him  life  and  health,  for  it  is  of  immense  consequence. 

February  6. — This  and  visits  wasted  my  time  till  past  two,  .and 
then  I  slept  half-an-hour  from  mere  exhaustion.  Went  in  the  even- 
ing to  the  play,  and  saw  that  good  old  thing,  an  English  tragedy,  well 
got  up.  It  was  Venice  Preserved.  Mrs.  H.  Siddons  played  Belvidera 
with  much  truth,  feeling,  and  tenderness,  though  short  of  her  mother- 
in-law's  uncommon  majesty,  which  is  a  thing  never  to  be  forgotten. 
Mr.  Young  played  Pierre  very  well,  and  a  good  Jaffier  was  supplied 
by  a  Mr.  Vandenhoff.  And  so  the  day  glided  by ;  only  three  pages 
written,  which,  however,  is  a  fair  task. 

February  7. — It  was  a  Teind  day,  so  no  Court,  but  very  little  work. 
I  wrote  this  morning  till  the  boy  made  his  appearance  for  proofs ; 
then  I  had  letters  to  write.  Item,  at  five  o'clock  I  set  out  with  Charles 
for  Dalkeith  to  present  him  to  the  young  Duke. 

I  asked  the  Duke  about  poor  Hogg.  I  think  he  has  decided  to 
take  Mr.  Riddell's  opinion;  it  is  unlucky  the  poor  fellow  has  ever 
taken  that  large  and  dear  farm.1  Altogether  Dalkeith  was  melan- 
choly to-night,  and  I  could  not  raise  my  spirits  at  all. 

February  8. — I  had  a  little  work  before  dinner,  but  we  are  only 
seven  pages  into  volume  second.  It  is  always  a  beginning,  however  ; 
perhaps  not  a  good  one — I  cannot  tell.  I  went  out  to  call  on  Gala 

i  Mount  Benger,  which  he  had  taken  in  1820.— See  ante,  p.  338. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  353 

and  Jack  Rutherfurd  of  Edgerstoun ;  saw  the  former,  not  the  latter. 
Gala  is  getting  much  better.  He  talked  as  if  the  increase  of  his  vil- 
lage was  like  to  drive  him  over  the  hill  to  the  Abbotsford  side,  which 
would  greatly  beautify  that  side  and  certainly  change  his  residence 
for  the  better,  only  that  he  must  remain  some  time  without  any  ap- 
pearance of  plantation.  The  view  would  be  enchanting. 

I  was  tempted  to  buy  a  picture  of  Nell  Gywnne,1  which  I  think 
has  merit ;  at  least  it  pleases  me.  Seven  or  eight  years  ago  Graham 
of  Gartmore  bid  for  it  against  me,  and  I  gave  it  up  at  twenty-five 
guineas.  I  have  now  bought  it  for  £18,  18s.  Perhaps  there  was 
folly  in  this,  but  I  reckoned  it  a  token  of  good  luck  that  I  should 
succeed  in  a  wish  I  had  formerly  harboured  in  vain.  I  love  marks  of 
good  luck  even  in  trifles. 

February  9. — Sent  oS  three  leaves  of  copy  ;  this  is  using  the  press 
like  the  famished  sailor  who  was  fed  by  a  comrade  with  shell-fish  by 
one  at  a  time.  But  better  anything  than  stop,  for  the  devil  is  to  get 
set  a-going  again.  I  know  no  more  than  my  old  boots  whether  I  am 
right  or  wrong,  but  have  no  very  favourable  anticipations. 

As  I  came  home  from  the  Court  about  twelve  I  stepped  into  the 
Exhibition.  It  makes  a  very  good  show  ;  the  portraits  are  better  than 
last  year,  those  of  Colvin  Smith  and  Watson  Gordon  especially  im- 
prove. Landseer's  Study  at  Abbotsford  is  in  a  capital  light,  and 
generally  admired.  I  particularly  distinguished  John  Thomson's 
picture  of  Turnberry,  which  is  of  first-rate  excellence.  A  picture 
by  Scrope  was  also  generally  distinguished.  It  is  a  view  in  Ca- 
labria. 

There  is  a  rival  Exhibition  which  does  not  hurt  the  earlier  foun- 
dation, but  rather  excites  emulation.  I  am  told  there  are  good  paint- 
ings there.  I  came  home  with  little  good-will  to  work,  but  I  will 
compel  myself  to  do  something.  Unluckily,  I  have  again  to  go  out 
to  dinner  to-day,  being  President  of  the  Bannatyne. 

The  dinner  was  a  pleasant  one  ;  about  thirty  members  attended. 
I  kept  the  chair  till  near  eleven,  and  the  company  were  very  joyous. 

February  10. — I  set  myself  doggedly  to  work,  and  turned  off  six 
leaves  before  dinner.  Had  to  dinner  Sir  John  Pringle,  my  dear  Gala 
and  his  lady,  and  young  Mackenzie  and  Miss  Jardine.  I  was  quite 
pleased  to  see  Gala  so  well  recovered  of  the  consequences  of  his 
frightful  fall,  which  hung  about  him  so  long.  He  is  one  of  the  kind- 
est and  best-informed  men  whom  I  know. 

February  11. — I  had  Charles  Young2  to  breakfast  with  us,  who 
gave  us  some  striking  anecdotes  of  Talma  during  the  Reign  of  Ter- 
ror, which  may  figure  in  Napoleon  to  great  advantage. 

My  son  Charles  left  us  this  morning  to  take  possession  of  his 

1  It  now  hangs  in  the  Drawing-room  at  Ab-      a  visitor  at  Abbotsford  in  the  autumn  of  1821. 
botsford. — See  Sharpe's  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  408.          Of  this  visit  his  son  Julian  gives  a  pleasant  ac- 
count in   a  Memoir  of  his  father,  pp.  88-96. 
a  Charles  Mayno  Young,  Tragedian,  had  been      London,  1871.    Mr.  Young  died  in  June,  1856. 

23 


354  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

situation  in  the  Foreign  Office.  He  has  been  very  lucky.  Correcting 
sheets,  etc.,  took  up  the  morning  hours.  I  wrote  three  leaves  before 
two  o'clock.  Day  bitter  cold — with  snow,  a  strong  contrast  to  the 
mild  weather  we  had  last  week. 

Salutation  of  two  old  Scottish  lairds  : — "  Ye  're  maist  obedient 
hummil  servant,  Tannachy  Tulloh." — "  Your  nain  man,  Kilspindie." 

Finished  six  pages,  twenty-five  pages  of  print  that  is,  or  about 
the  thirteenth  part  of  a  volume.  That  would  be  a  volume  in  a 
fortnight,  with  a  holiday  to  boot.  It  would  be  possible  enough  for  a 
little  while. 

February  12. — I  wrought  hard  this  morning.  Ballantyne  blames 
the  Ossianic  monotony  of  my  principal  characters.  Now  they  are  not 
Ossianic.  The  language  of  the  Ossianic  poetry  is  highly  figurative ; 
that  of  the  knights  of  chivalry  may  be  monotonous,  and  probably  is, 
but  it  cannot  be  Ossianic.  Sooth  to  say,  this  species  of  romance  of 
chivalry  is  an  inexhaustible  subject.  It  affords  materials  for  splendid 
description  for  once  or  twice,  but  they  are  too  unnatural  and  formal 
to  bear  repetition.  We  must  go  on  with  our  present  work,  however, 
valeat  quantum.  Mr.  Cadell,  less  critical  than  J.  B.,  seems  pleased. 
The  world  will  soon  decide  if  I  get  on  at  this  rate;  for  1  have  fin- 
ished four  leaves  to-day,  notwithstanding  my  attendance  on  the 
Court. 

February  13. — Mr.  Macintosh  Mackay,  minister  of  Laggan,  break- 
fasted with  us  this  morning.  This  reverend  gentleman  is  completing 
the  Highland  Dictionary,1  and  seems  very  competent  for  the  task. 
He  left  in  my  hands  some  papers  of  Cluny  Macpherson,  concerning 
the  affair  of  1745,  from  which  I  have  extracted  an  account  of  the 
battle  of  Clifton  for  Waverley.  He  has  few  prejudices  (for  a  High- 
lander), and  is  a  mild,  well-mannered  young  man.  We  had  much  talk 
on  Highland  matters. 

The  Children's  Tales  continue  in  demand.  Cadell  expects  a  new 
edition  of  10,000  about  next  year,  which  may  be  £750  or  £800  in 
pouch,  besides  constituting  a  fine  property. 

February  14. — Mr.  Edwards,  a  candidate  for  the  situation  of  Rec- 
tor in  the  Edinburgh  Academy,  a  pleasant,  gentlemanlike  man,  and 
recommended  highly  for  experience  and  learning ;  but  he  is  himself 
afraid  of  wanting  bodily  strength  for  the  work,  which  requires  all  the 
nerve  and  muscle  of  Williams.  I  wish  he  had  been  three  inches 
taller,  and  stout  in  proportion.  I  went  to  Mr.  John  Russell's,  where 
there  was  an  Academical  party  at  dinner.  Home  at  nine,  a  cigar, 
and  to  bed. 

•  This  enthusiastic  Gaelic  scholar,  then  par-  The  Gaelic  dictionary  of  the  Highland  Soeic- 

ish  minister  of  Laggan,  joined  the  Free  Church  ty  was  completed  and  published  in  2  vols.  4to, 

of  Scotland  in  1843,  and  was  elected  Moderator  1828.     The  editor  was  Dr.  Macleod  of  Dundon- 

of  its  General  Assembly  in  1849.     As  a  clergy-  aid,  assisted  by  other  Gaelic  scholars.      Dr. 

man,  he  had  afterwards  a  varied  experience  in  Mackay  edited  the  poems  of  Rob  Donn  in  1829. 

this  country  and  in  Australia,  before  he  finally  —See  Quarterly  Review,  July,  1831. 
settled  in  the  island  of  Harris;  he  died  at  Por- 
tobello  in  1873. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  355 

February  15. — Rose  this  morning  about  seven  and  wrote  at  the 
desk  till  breakfast ;  finished  about  a  page  and  a  half.  I  was  fagged 
at  Court  till  near  two.  Then  called  on  Cadell,  and  so  home,  tired 
enough. 

February  16. — There  dined  with  me  to-day  Tom  Thomson,  Will 
Clerk,  Mr.  Edwards,  and  my  Celtic  friend  Mr.  Mackay  of  Laggan. 

February  1 7. — A  day  of  hard  work,  being  I  think  eight  pages1  be- 
fore dinner.  I  cannot,  I  am  sure,  tell  if  it  is  worth  marking  down, 
that  yesterday  at  dinner-time  I  was  strangely  haunted  by  what  I 
would  call  the  sense  of  pre-existence, — videlicet,  a  confused  idea  that 
nothing  that  passed  was  said  for  the  first  time,  that  the  same  topics 
had  been  discussed,  and  the  same  persons  had  stated  the  same  opin- 
ions on  the  same  subjects.  It  is  true  there  might  have  been  some 
ground  for  recollections,  considering  that  three  at  least  of  the  com- 
pany were  old  friends,  and  kept  much  company  together :  that  is, 
Justice-Clerk,8  [Lord]  Abercromby,  and  I.  But  the  sensation  was  so 
strong  as  to  resemble  what  is  called  a  mirage  in  the  desert,  or  a  calen- 
ture on  board  ship,  when  lakes  are  seen  in  the  desert,  and  silvan  land- 
scapes in  the  sea.  It  was  very  distressing  yesterday,  and  brought  to 
my  mind  the  fancies  of  Bishop  Berkeley  about  an  ideal  world.  There 
was  a  vile  sense  of  want  of  reality  in  all  I  did  and  said.  It  made  me 
gloomy  and  out  of  spirits,  though  I  flatter  myself  it  was  not  observed. 
The  bodily  feeling  which  most  resembles  this  unpleasing  hallucina- 
tion is  the  giddy  state  which  follows  profuse  bleeding,  when  one  feels 
as  if  walking  on  feather-beds  and  could  not  find  a  secure  footing.  I 
think  the  stomach  has  something  to  do  with  it.  I  drank  several 
glasses  of  wine,  but  these  only  augmented  the  disorder.  I  did  not  find 
the  in  vino  veritas  of  the  philosophers.  Something  of  this  insane 
feeling  remains  to-day,  but  a  trifle  only. 

February  1 8. — I  had  other  work  to  do  this  day.  In  the  morning 
corrected  proofs.  After  breakfast,  made  a  visit  or  two,  and  met 
Sandie  Buchanan,  whom  it  joys  me  to  see.  Then  despatched  all  my 
sheriff  processes,  save  one,  which  hitches  for  want  of  some  papers. 
Lastly,  here  I  am,  before  dinner,  with  my  journal.  I  sent  all  the 
county  money  to  Andrew  Lang.  Wrote  to  Mr.  Reynolds  too ;  me- 
thinks  I  will  let  them  have  the  Tales  which  Jem  Ballantyne  and  Ca- 
dell quarrelled  with.3  I  have  asked  £500  for  them — pretty  well  that. 
1  suppose  they  will  be  fools  enough  to  give  it  me.  In  troth  she  '11  no 
pe  cheaper. 

February  1 9. — A  day  of  hard  and  continued  work,  the  result  be- 
ing eight  pages.  But  then  I  hardly  ever  quitted  the  table  save  at 
meal-time.  So  eight  pages  of  my  manuscript  may  be  accounted  the 
maximum  of  my  literary  labour.  It  is  equal  to  forty  printed  pages 
of  the  novels.  I  had  the  whole  of  this  day  at  my  own  disposal,  by 


1  See  under  Feb.  19.  *  My  Aunt  Margaret's  Mirror,  etc. 

»  The  Right  Hon.  David  Boyle. 


356  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

the  voluntary  kindness  of  Sir  Robert  Dundas  interfering  to  take  up 
my  duty  at  the  Court.  The  proofs  of  my  Sermons  are  arrived,  but  I 
have  had  no  time,  saving  to  blot  out  some  flummery,  which  poor 
Gordon  had  put  into  the  preface.1 

February  20. — Another  day  of  labour;  but  not  so  hard.  I 
worked  from  eight  till  three  with  little  intermission,  but  only  ac- 
complished four  pages.  Then  I  went  out  and  made  a  visit  or  two, 
and  looked  in  on  Cadell.  If  I  get  two  pages  in  the  evening  I  will  be 
satisfied,  for  volume  n.  may  be  concluded  with  the  week,  or  run  over 
to  Sunday  at  most.  Will  it  tell,  this  work  ?  I  doubt  it,  but  there  is 
no  standing  still. 

A  certain  Mr.  Mackay  from  Ireland  called  on  me,  an  active  agent, 
it  would  seem,  about  the  reform  of  prisons.  He  exclaims,  justly  I 
have  no  doubt,  about  the  state  of  our  Lock-up  House.  For  myself,  I 
have  some  distrust  of  the  fanaticism — even  of  philanthropy.  A  good 
part  of  it  arises  in  general  from  mere  vanity  and  love  of  distinction, 
gilded  over  to  others  and  to  themselves  with  some  show  of  benevo- 
lent sentiment.  The  philanthropy  of  Howard,  mingled  with  his  ill- 
usage  of  his  son,  seems  to  have  risen  to  a  pitch  of  insanity.  Yet 
without  such  extraordinary  men,  who  call  attention  to  the  subject  by 
their  own  peculiarities,  prisons  would  have  remained  the  same  dun- 
geons which  they  were  forty  or  fifty  years  ago.  I  do  not  see  the  pro- 
priety of  making  them  dandy  places  of  detention.  They  should  be  a 
place  of  punishment,  and  that  can  hardly  be  if  men  are  lodged  better, 
and  fed  better,  than  when  they  are  at  large.  The  separation  of  ranks 
is  an  excellent  distinction,  and  is  nominally  provided  for  in  all  mod- 
ern prisons.  But  the  size  of  most  of  them  is  inadequate  to  the  great 
increase  of  crime,  and  so  the  pack  is  shuffled  together  again  for  want 
of  room  to  keep  them  separate.  There  are  several  prisons  construct- 
ed on  excellent  principles,  the  economy  of  which  becomes  deranged 
so  soon  as  the  death  takes  place  of  some  keen  philanthropist  who 
had  the  business  of  a  whole  committee,  which,  having  lost  him,  re- 
mained like  a  carcass  without  a  head.  But  I  have  never  seen  a  plan 
for  keeping  in  order  these  resorts  of  guilt  and  misery,  without  pre- 
supposing a  superintendence  of  a  kind  which  might  perhaps  be  ex- 
ercised, could  we  turn  out  upon  the  watch  a  guard  of  angels.  But, 
alas !  jailors  and  turnkeys  are  rather  like  angels  of  a  different  livery, 
nor  do  I  see  how  it  is  possible  to  render  them  otherwise.  Superin- 
tendence is  all  you  can  trust  to,  and  superintendence,  save  in  some 
rare  cases,  is  hard  to  come  by,  where  it  is  to  be  vigilantly  and  con- 
stantly exercised.  Quis  custodiet  ipsos  custodes?  As  to  reformation, 
I  have  no  great  belief  in  it,  when  the  ordinary  class  of  culprits,  who 
are  vicious  from  ignorance  or  habit,  are  the  subjects  of  the  experi- 
ment. "  A  shave  from  a  broken  loaf  "  is  thought  as  little  of  by  the 
male  set  of  delinquents  as  by  the  fair  frail.  The  state  of  society 

i  See  Jan.  25, 1828  (p.  348). 


1828.]  JOURNAL  357 

now  leads  so  much  to  great  accumulations  of  humanity,  that  we  can- 
not wonder  if  it  ferment  and  reek  like  a  compost  dunghill.  Nature 
intended  that  population  should  be  diffused  over  the  soil  in  propor- 
tion to  its  extent.  We  have  accumulated  in  huge  cities  and  smoth- 
ering manufactories  the  numbers  which  should  be  spread  over  the 
face  of  a  country  ;  and  what  wonder  that  they  should  be  corrupted  ? 
We  have  turned  healthful  and  pleasant  brooks  into  morasses  and 
pestiferous  lakes, — what  wonder  the  soil  should  be  unhealthy  ?  A 
great  deal,  I  think,  might  be  done  by  executing  the  punishment  of 
death,  without  a  chance  of  escape,  in  all  cases  to  which  it  should  be 
found  properly  applicable ;  of  course  these  occasions  being  dimin- 
ished to  one  out  of  twenty  to  which  capital  punishment  is  now  as- 
signed. Our  ancestors  brought  the  country  to  order  by  kilting1 
thieves  and  banditti  with  strings.  So  did  the  French  when  at  Na- 
ples, and  bandits  became  for  the  time  unheard  of.  When  once  the 
evil  habit  is  altered — when  men  are  taught  a  crime  of  a  certain  char- 
acter is  connected  inseparably  with  death,  the  moral  habits  of  a  pop- 
ulation become  altered,  and  you  may  in  the  next  age  remit  the  pun- 
ishment which  in  this  it  has  been  necessary  to  inflict  with  stern 
severity.  I  think  whoever  pretends  to  reform  a  corrupted  nation,  or 
a  disorderly  regiment,  or  an  ill-ordered  ship  of  war,  must  begin  by 
severity,  and  only  resort  to  gentleness  when  he  has  acquired  the 
complete  mastery  by  terror — the  terror  being  always  attached  to  the 
law ;  and,  the  impression  once  made,  he  can  afford  to  govern  with 
mildness,  and  lay  the  iron  rule  aside. 

Mr.  Mackay  talked  big  of  the  excellent  state  of  prisons  in  Ireland. 
J'en  doute  nn  pen.  That  the  warm-hearted  and  generous  Irish  would 
hurry  eagerly  into  any  scheme  which  had  benevolence  for  its  motive,  I 
readily  believe ;  but  that  Pat  should  have  been  able  to  maintain  that 
calm,  all-seeing,  all-enduring  species  of  superintendence  necessary  to 
direct  the  working  of  the  best  plan  of  prison  discipline,  I  greatly 
hesitate  to  believe. 

Well,  leaving  all  this,  I  wish  Mr.  Mackay  good  luck,  with  some 
little  doubt  of  his  success,  but  none  of  his  intentions.  I  am  come  in 
my  work  to  that  point  where  a  lady  who  works  a  stocking  must 
count  by  threads,  and  bring  the  various  loose  ends  of  my  story  to- 
gether. They  are  too  many. 

February  21. — Last  night  after  dinner  I  rested  from  my  work, 
and  read  third  part  of  [Theodore  Hook's]  Sayings  and  Doings,  which 
shows  great  knowledge  of  life  in  a  certain  sphere,  and  very  consider- 
able powers  of  wit,  which  somewhat  damages  the  effect  of  the  tragic 
parts.  But  he  is  an  able  writer,  and  so  much  of  his  work  is  well 
said,  that  it  will  carry  through  what  is  manque.  I  hope  the  same 
good  fortune  for  other  folks. 

1  To  kilt,  i.e.,  to  elevate  or  lift  up   anything  "Their  bare  preaching  now 

quickly;    this  applied,  ludicrously,  to  tucking  Makes  the  thrush  bush  keep  the  cow 

by  a  halter.  -Jarnieson's  Dictionary.  *%£ 


358  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

I  am  watching  and  waiting  till  I  hit  on  some  quaint  and  clever 
mode  of  extricating,  but  do  not  see  a  glimpse  of  any  one.  James  B., 
too,  discourages  me  a  good  deal  by  his  silence,  waiting,  I  suppose,  to 
be  invited  to  disgorge  a  full  allowance  of  his  critical  bile.  But  he 
may  wait  long  enough,  for  I  am  discouraged  enough.  Now  here  is 
the  advantage  of  Edinburgh.  In  the  country,  if  a  sense  of  inability 
once  seizes  me,  it  haunts  me  from  morning  to  night ;  but  in  Edin- 
burgh the  time  is  so  occupied  and  frittered  away  by  official  duties 
and  chance  occupation,  that  you  have  not  time  to  play  Master  Stephen 
and  be  gentlemanlike  and  melancholy.1  On  the  other  hand,  you 
never  feel  in  town  those  spirit-stirring  influences — those  glances  of 
sunshine  that  make  amends  for  clouds  and  mist.  The  country  is 
said  to  be  quieter  life  ;  not  to  me,  I  am  sure.  In  the  town  the  busi- 
ness I  have  to  do  hardly  costs  me  more  thought  than  just  occupies 
my  mind,  and  I  have  as  much  of  gossip  and  ladylike  chat  as  con- 
sumes the  time  pleasantly  enough.  In  the  country  I  am  thrown  en- 
tirely on  my  own  resources,  and  there  is  no  medium  betwixt  happi- 
ness and  the  reverse. 

February  22. — Went  to  Court,  and  remained  there  until  one 
o'clock.  Then  to  Mr.  Colvin  Smith's  and  sat  to  be  stared  at  till  three 
o'clock.  This  is  a  great  bore  even  when  you  have  a  companion,  sad 
when  you  are  alone  and  can  only  disturb  the  painter  by  your  chatter. 
After  dinner  I  had  proofs  to  the  number  of  four.  J.  B.  is  outra- 
geous about  the  death  of  Oliver  Proudfoot,  one  of  the  characters ; 
but  I  have  a  humour  to  be  cruel. 

"His  business  'tis  to  die." 

Received  a  present  from  a  Mr.  Dobie  of  a  candlestick  said  to  be  that 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Guthrie,  minister  of  Fenwick  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury,— very  civil  of  a  gentleman  unknown,  if  there  comes  no  request 
to  look  over  poems,  or  to  get  made  a  gauger,  or  the  like,  for  I  have 
seen  that  kind  of  compliment  made  on  the  principle  on  which  small 
balloons  are  sent  up  before  a  large  one,  to  see  how  the  wind  sits. 
After  dinner  proof-sheets. 

February  23. — Morning  proof-sheets  galore.  Then  to  Parliament 
House.  After  that,  at  one,  down  to  Sir  William  MacLeod  Bannatyne, 
who  has  made  some  discoveries  concerning  Bannatyne  the  collector 
of  poetry,  and  furnished  me  with  some  notes  to  that  purpose.  He 
informs  me  that  the  MacLeod,  alias  MacCruiskin,  who  met  Dr.  John- 
son on  the  Isle  of  Skye,  was  Mr.  Alexander  MacLeod,  Advocate,  a  son 
of  MacLeod  of  Muiravonside.  He  was  subject  to  fits  of  insanity  at 
times,  very  clever  at  others.8  Sir  William  mentioned  the  old  Laird 
of  Bernera,  who,  summoned  by  his  Chief  to  join  him  with  all  the  men 

'  See  Johnson's  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,          *  See  Boswell's  Johnson.  Croker's  ed.  imp 
Act  I.  Sc.  3.  8vo,  p.  318. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  359 

he  could  make,  when  the  Chief  was  raising  his  men  for  Government, 
sent  him  a  letter  to  this  purpose : — "  Dear  Laird, — No  man  would 
like  better  to  be  at  your  back  than  I  would ;  but  on  this  occasion  it 
cannot  be.  I  send  my  men,  who  are  at  your  service  ;  for  "myself, 
higher  duties  carry  me  elsewhere."  He  went  off  accordingly  alone, 
and  joined  Raasay  as  a  volunteer.  I  returned  by  the  printing-office 
and  found  J.  B.  in  great  feather.  He  tells  me  Cadell,  on  squaring  his 
books  and  making  allowance  for  bad  debts,  has  made  between  £3000 
and  £4000,  lodged  in  bank.  He  does  nothing  but  with  me.  Thus 
we  stand  on  velvet  as  to  finance.  Met  Staffa,1  who  walked  with  me 
and  gave  me  some  Gaelic  words  which  I  wanted. 

I  may  mention  that  I  saw  at  the  printing-office  a  part  of  a  review 
on  Leigh  Hunt's  Anecdotes  of  Byron.  It  is  written  with  power,  ap- 
parently by  Professor  Wilson,  but  with  a  degree  of  passion  which 
rather  diminishes  the  effect ;  for  nothing  can  more  lessen  the  dignity 
of  the  satirist  than  being  or  seeming  to  be  in  a  passion.  I  think  it 
may  come  to  a  bloody  arbitrament,2  for  if  L.  H.  should  take  it  up  as 
a  gentleman,  Wilson  is  the  last  man  to  flinch.  I  hope  Lockhart  will 
not  be  dragged  in  as  second  or  otherwise.  Went  to  Jeffrey's  to  din- 
ner— there  were  Mrs.  and  Miss  Sydney  Smith,  Lords  Gillies  and  Core- 
house,  etc.,  etc. 

February  24. — I  fancy  I  had  drunk  a  glass  or  two  overmuch  last 
night,  for  I  have  the  heartburn  this  morning.  But  a  little  magnesia 
salves  that  sore.  Meantime  I  have  had  an  inspiration  which  shows 
me  my  good  angel  has  not  left  me.  For  these  two  or  three  days  I 
have  been  at  what  the  "  Critic  "  calls  a  dead-lock3 — all  my  incidents 
and  personages  ran  into  a  gordian  knot  of  confusion,  to  which  I  could 
devise  no  possible  extrication.  I  had  thought  on  the  subject  several 
days  with  something  like  the  despair  which  seized  the  fair  princess, 
commanded  by  her  ugly  step-mother  to  assort  a  whole  garret  full  of 
tangled  silk  threads  of  every  kind  and  colour,  when  in  comes  Prince 
Percinet  with  a  wand,  whisks  it  over  the  miscellaneous  mass,  and  lo ! 
all  the  threads  are  as  nicely  arranged  as  in  a  seamstress'  housewife. 
It  has  often  happened  to  me  that  when  I  went  to  bed  with  my  head 
as  ignorant  as  my  shoulders  what  I  was  to  do  next,  I  have  waked  in 
the  morning  with  a  distinct  and  accurate  conception  of  the  mode, 
good  or  bad,  in  which  the  plot  might  be  extricated.  It  seems  to  me 

1  Sir  Reginald  Steuart  Seton  of  Staffa,  for  rancour  in  February,  1821  (Scott  and  Christie), 
many  years  Secretary  to  the  Highland  andAg-  and  in  March,  1822  (Stuart  and  Boswell),  with 
ricultural  Society;  died  at  Edinburgh  in  1838.  all  the  untold  domestic  miseries  accompanying 

2  On  reading  the  savage  article  on  Hunt's  them.     It  is  satisfactory  to  think  that  this  was 
Byron  published  in  Blackwood  for  March,  1828,  about  the  last  of  these  uncalled  for  literary  on- 
.Sir  Walter's  thoughts  must  have  gone  back  not  slaughts,  as  one  finds,  in  turning  over  the  pages 
only  to  Gourgaud's  affair  of  the  previous  year,  of  Blackwood,  that  in  1834,  Professor  Wilson 
and  to  the  more  serious  matter  of  the  Beacon  in  the  Nodes  rebukes  some  one  for  reviving 
newspaper  in  1821,— when,  to  use  Lord  Cock-  "forgotten  falsehoods,"  praises  Leigh  Hunt's 
burn's  words,  "  it  was  dreadful  to  think  that  a  London  Journal,  and  adds  the  ecstatic  words, 
life  like  Scott's  was  for  a  moment  in  peril  in  which  ho  also  addressed  later  on  to  Lord  Jef- 
suoh  a  cause  "—but  he  mustalso  have  had  very  frey,  "The  animosities  are  mortal,  but  the  hu- 
sad  recollections  of  the  bloody  results  of  the  two  manities  live  for  ever." 

melancholy  duels  arising  from  the  same  party          3  Act  in.  Sc.  1 


360  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

that  the  action  of  the  intellect,  on  such  occasions,  is  rather  accelerated 
by  the  little  fever  which  an  extra  glass  of  wine  produces  on  the  sys- 
tem. Of  course  excess  is  out  of  the  question.  Now  this  may  seem 
strange,  but  it  is  quite  true  ;  and  it  is  no  less  so  that  I  have  generally 
written  to  the  middle  of  one  of  these  novels,  without  having  the  least 
idea  how  it  was  to  end,  in  short  in  the  hab  nab  at  a  venture  style  of 
composition.  So  now,  this  hitch  being  over,  I  fold  my  paper,  lock 
up  my  journal,  and  proceed  to  labour  with  good  hope. 

February  25. — This  being  Monday,  I  carried  on  my  work  accord- 
ing to  the  new  model.  Dined  at  home  and  in  quiet.  But  I  may 
notice  that  yesterday  Mr.  Williams,  the  learned  Rector  of  our  new 
Academy,  who  now  leaves  us,  took  his  dinner  here.  We  had  a  long 
philological  tete-a-tete.  He  is  opinionative,  as  he  has  some  title  to 
be,  but  very  learned,  and  with  a  juster  view  of  his  subject  than  is 
commonly  entertained,  for  he  traces  words  to  the  same  source — not 
from  sound  but  sense.  He  casts  backwards  thus  to  the  root,  while 
many  compare  the  ends  of  the  twigs  without  going  further. 

This  night  I  went  to  the  funeral  of  Mr.  Henderson,  late  of  Eildon 
Hall,  a  kind-hearted  man,  who  rose  to  great  wealth  by  honest  means, 
and  will  be  missed  and  regretted. 

In  the  evening  I  went  to  the  promenade  in  the  Exhibition  of  Pict- 
ures, which  was  splendidly  lighted  up  and  filled  with  fashionable 
company.  I  think  there  was  a  want  of  beauty, — or  perhaps  the  gas- 
lights were  unfavourable  to  the  ladies'  looks. 

February  26. — Business  filled  up  the  day  till  one,  when  I  sat  to 
Mr.  Smith.  Tedious  work,  even  though  Will  Clerk  chaperoned  me. 
We  dined  at  Archie  Swinton's.  Met  Lord  Lothian,  Lord  Cringletie, 
etc.  This  day  I  have  wrought  almost  nothing,  but  I  am  nearly  halt' 
a  volume  before  the  press.  Lord  Morton,1  married  to  a  daughter  of 
my  friend  Sir  George  Rose,  is  come  to  Edinburgh.  He  seems  a  very 
gentlemanlike  man,  and  she  pleasing  and  willing  to  be  pleased,  i 
had  the  pleasure  to  be  of  some  little  use  to  him  in  his  election  as  one 
of  the  Scottish  Peers.  I  owe  Sir  George  Rose  much  for  his  attention 
to  Walter  at  Berlin. 

February  27. — At  Court  till  half -past  two.  Then  to  the  Waterloo 
Tavern,  where  we  had  a  final  and  totally  unfructuous  meeting  with 
the  Committee  of  the  Coal  Gas  people.  So  now  my  journey  to  Lon- 
don is  resolved  on.  I  shall  lose  at  least  £500  by  the  job,  and  get  lit- 
tle thanks  from  those  I  make  the  sacrifice  for.  But  the  sacrifice  shall 
be  made.  Anything  is  better  than  to  break  one's  word,  or  desert  a 
sinking  vessel.  Heartily  do  I  wish  these  "Colliers"  had  seen  the 
matter  in  the  best  light  for  their  own  interest.  But  there  is  no  help. 
One  thing  is  certain,  that  I  shall  see  my  whole  family  once  more 
around  me,  and  that  is  worth  the  £500.  Anne  too  starts  at  the  idea 
of  the  sea.  I  am  horribly  vexed,  however.  Gibson  always  expected 

1  Sbolto  Douglas,  eighteenth  Earl  of  Morton. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  361 

they  would  come  in,  but  there  seemed  to  me  little  chance  of  it ;  per- 
haps they  thought  we  were  not  serious  in  our  proposal  to  push  through 
the  Act.  Wrought  a  little  in  the  evening,  not  much. 

February  28. — At  Court  till  Four.  When  I  came  home  I  did 
work  a  little,  but  as  we  expected  company  it  was  not  to  much  pur- 
pose. Lord  Chief-Commissioner  dined  with  us  with  Miss  Adam ; 
Mr.  Hutchinson,  brother  of  Lord  Donoughmore,  and  Miss  Jones,  Will 
Clerk  and  John  Thomson  made  up  the  party,  and  we  had  a  pleasant 
evening,  as  such  a  handful  always  secures.  Stayed  till  wine-and- 
water  time.  Thus  flew  another  day. 

February  29. — I  had  my  proof-sheets  as  usual  in  the  morning 
and  the  Court  as  usual  till  two.  Then  one  or  two  visits  and  correct- 
ed the  discourses  for  Gordon.  This  is  really  a  foolish  scrape,  but 
what  could  I  do  ?  It  involved  the  poor  lad's  relief  from  something 
very  like  ruin.  I  got  a  letter  from  the  young  man  Reynolds  accept- 
ing on  Heath's  part  my  terms  for  article  to  The  Keepsake,  namely 
£500, — I  to  be  at  liberty  to  reprint  the  article  in  my  works  after 
three  years.  Mr.  Heath  to  print  it  in  The  Keepsake  as  long  and  often 
as  he  pleases,  but  not  in  any  other  form.  I  shall  close  with  them.  If 
I  make  my  proposed  bargain  with  Murray,  all  pecuniary  matters  will 
be  easy  in  an  unusual  degree.  Dined  at  Robert  Hamilton's  with 
Lord  and  Lady  Belhaven,  Walter  Campbell,  and  a  number  of  West- 
landers. 


MARCH 

March  1. — Wrought  a  little  this  morning;  always  creeping  on. 
We  had  a  hard  pull  at  the  Court,  and  after  it  I  walked  a  little  for 
exercise,  as  I  fear  indigestion  from  dining  out  so  often. 

Dined  to-day  with  the  bankers  who  went  as  delegates  to  London 
in  Malachi  Malagrowther's  days.  Sir  John  Hay  Kinnear  and  Tom 
Allan  were  my  only  acquaintances  of  the  party;  the  rest  seemed 
shrewd  capable  men.  I  particularly  remarked  a  Mr.  Sandeman  with 
as  intellectual  a  head  as  I  ever  witnessed. 

March  2. — A  day  of  hard  work  with  little  interruption,  and  com- 
pleted volume  second.  I  am  not  much  pleased  with  it.  It  wauls 
what  I  desire  it  to  have,  and  that  is  passion. 

The  two  Ballantynes  and  Mr.  Cadell  dined  with  me  quietly. 
Heard  from  London  ;  all  well. 

March  3. — I  set  about  clearing  my  desk  of  unanswered  letters, 
which  I  had  suffered  to  accumulate  to  an  Augean  heap.  I  daresay  I 
wrote  twenty  cards  that  might  have  been  written  at  the  time  without 
half-a-minute  being  lost.  To  do  everything  when  it  ought  to  be 
done  is  the  soul  of  expedition.  But  then,  if  you  are  interrupted 
eternally  with  these  petty  avocations,  the  current  of  the  mind  is  com- 
pelled to  flow  in  shallows,  and  you  lose  the  deep  intensity  of  thought 
which  alone  can  float  plans  of  depth  and  magnitude.  I  sometimes 
wish  I  were  one  of  those  formalists  who  can  assign  each  hour  of  the 
day  its  special  occupations,  not  to  be  encroached  upon  ;  but  it  always 
returns  upon  my  mind  that  I  do  better  a  la  debandade  than  I  could 
with  rules  of  regular  study.  A  work  begun  is  with  me  a  stone 
turned  over  with  the  purpose  of  rolling  it  down  hill.  The  first  revo- 
lutions are  made  with  difficulty  —  but  vires  acquirit  eundo.  Now, 
were  the  said  stone  arrested  in  its  progress,  the  whole  labour  would 
be  to  commence  again.  To  take  a  less  conceited  simile :  I  am  like  a 
spavined  horse,  who  sets  out  lame  and  stiff,  but  when  he  warms  in 
his  gear  makes  a  pretty  good  trot  of  it,  so  that  it  is  better  to  take  a 
good  stage  of  him  while  you  can  get  it.  Besides,  after  all,  I  have 
known  most  of  those  formalists,  who  were  not  men  of  business  or  of 
office  to  whom  hours  are  prescribed  as  a  part  of  duty,  but  who  volun- 
tarily makes  themselves 

"Slaves  to  an  hour,  and  vassals  to  a  bell,"1 — 

to  be  what  I  call  very  poor  creatures. 

• 

1  Oldham— "Lines  addressed  to  a  friend  about  to  leave  the  University. "—Poems  and  Transla- 
tions, 8vo.     Lond.  1694. 


MARCH,  1828.J  JOURNAL  363 

General  Ainslie  looked  in,  and  saddened  me  by  talking  of  poor 
Don.  The  General  is  a  medallist,  and  entertains  an  opinion  that  the 
bonnet-piece  of  James  v.  is  the  work  of  some  Scottish  artist  who  died 
young,  and  never  did  anything  else.  It  is  far  superior  to  anything 
which  the  Mint  produced  since  the  Roman  denarii.  He  also  told  me 
that  the  name  of  Andrea  de  Ferrara  is  famous  in  Italy  as  an  ar- 
mourer. 

Dined  at  home,  and  went  to  the  Royal  Society  in  the  evening  af- 
ter sending  off  my  processes  for  the  Sheriff  Court.  Also  went  after 
the  Society  to  Mr.  James  Russell's  symposium. 

March  4. — A  letter  from  Italy  signed  J.  S.  with  many  acute  re- 
marks on  inaccuracies  in  the  life  of  Bonaparte. 

His  tone  is  hostile  decidedly,  but  that  shall  not  prevent  my  mak- 
ing use  of  all  his  corrections  where  just. 

The  wretched  publication  of  Leigh  Hunt  on  the  subject  of  Byron 
is  to  bring  forward  Tom  Moore's  life  of  that  distinguished  poet,  and 
I  am  honoured  and  flattered  by  the  information  that  he  means  to 
dedicate  it  to  me.1 

A  great  deal  of  worry  in  the  Court  to-day,  and  I  lost  my  specta- 
cles, and  was  a  dark  and  perplexed  man — found  them  again  though. 
Wrote  to  Lockhart  and  to  Charles,  and  will  do  more  if  I  can,  but  am 
sadly  done  up.  An  old  friend  came  and  pressed  unmercifully  some 
selfish  request  of  his  own  to  ask  somebody  to  do  something  for  his 
son.  I  shall  be  glad  to  be  at  Abbotsford  to  get  rid  of  this  town, 
where  I  have  not,  in  the  proper  and  social  sense  of  the  word,  a  single 
friend  whose  company  pleases  me.  In  the  country  I  have  always- 
Tom  Purdie. 

Dined  at  the  Lord  Chief-Commissioner's,  where  I  met,  the  first 
time  for  thirty  years,  my  old  friend  and  boon  companion,  with  whom 
I  shared  the  wars  of  Bacchus,  Venus,  and  sometimes  of  Mars.  The 
past  rushed  on  me  like  a  flood  and  almost  brought  tears  into  my  eyes. 
It  is  no  very  laudable  exploit  to  record,  but  I  once  drank  three  bot- 
tles of  wine  with  this  same  rogue — Sir  William  Forbes  and  Sir  Alex- 
ander Wood  being  of  the  party.  David  Erskine  of  Cardross  keeps 
his  looks  better  than  most  of  our  contemporaries.  I  hope  we  shall 
meet  for  a  longer  time. 

March  5. — I  corrected  sheets,  and,  being  a  Teind  Wednesday,  be- 
gan the  second  volume  and  proceeded  as  far  as  page  fourth. 

We  dined  at  Hector  Macdonald's  with  several  Highlanders,  most 
of  whom  were  in  their  garb,  intending  to  go  to  a  great  fancy  ball  in 
the  evening.  There  were  young  Cluny  Macpherson,  Campbell  Airds, 
Campbell  Saddell,  and  others  of  the  race  of  Diarmid.  I  went  for  an 
hour  to  the  ball,  where  there  were  many  gay  and  some  grotesque  fig- 

1  On  the  20th  April  Moore  writes  to  Scott:  '  With  folly  at  full  length  between.' 

"  I  am  delighted  you  do  not  reject  my  proffered 

dedication,  though  between  two  such  names  as  However,  never  mind;  in  cordial  feeling  and 

yours  and  Byron's  1  shall  but  realise  the  de-  good  fellowship  I  flatter  myself  I  am  a  match 

scriptiou  in  the  old  couplet  of  Wisdom  and  Wit,  for  either  of  you." 


364  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

ures.  A  dressed  ball  is,  for  the  first  half -hour,  a  splendid  spectacle ; 
you  see  youth  and  beauty  dressed  in  their  gayest  attire,  unlimited, 
save  by  their  own  taste,  and  enjoying  the  conscious  power  of  charm- 
ing, which  gives  such  life  and  alacrity  to  the  features.  But  the  charm 
ceases  in  this  like  everything  else.  The  want  of  masks  takes  away 
the  audacity  with  which  the  disguised  parties  conduct  themselves  at 
a  masquerade,  and  [leaves]  the  sullen  sheepishness  which  makes  them, 
I  suppose,  the  worst  maskers  in  Europe.  At  the  only  real  masquer- 
ade which  I  have  known  in  Edinburgh  there  were  many,  if  not  most, 
of  those  who  had  determined  to  sustain  characters,  who  had  more  ill- 
breeding  than  facetiousness.  The  jests  were  chiefly  calculated  to 
give  pain,  and  two  or  three  quarrels  were  with  difficulty  prevented 
from  ripening  into  duels.  A  fancy  ball  has  no  offence  in  it,  therefore 
cannot  be  wrecked  on  this  rock.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  horri- 
bly dull  work  when  the  first  coup  d'oeil  is  over. 

There  were  some  good  figures,  and  some  grossly  absurd.  A  very 
gay  cavalier  with  a  broad  bright  battle-axe  was  pointed  out  to  me  as 
an  eminent  distiller,  and  another  knight  in  the  black  coarse  armour 
of  a  cuirassier  of  the  17th  century  stalked  about  as  if  he  thought 
himself  the  very  mirror  of  chivalry.  He  was  the  son  of  a  cele- 
brated upholsterer,  so  might  claim  the  broad  axe  from  more  titles 
than  one.  There  was  some  good  dancing ;  Cluny  Macpherson  foot- 
ed it  gallantly. 

March  6. — Wrote  two  pages  this  morning  before  breakfast.  Went 
to  the  Court,  where  I  learned  that  the  "  Colliers  "  are  in  alarm  at  the 
determination  shown  by  our  Committee,  and  are  willing  to  give  bet- 
ter terms.  I  hope  this  is  so — but  Cogan  na  Shie — peace  or  war,  I 
care  not.  I  never  felt  less  anxiety  about  where  I  went  and  what  I 
did.  A  feather  just  lighted  on  the  ground  can  scarce  be  less  con- 
cerned where  the  next  blast  may  carry  it.  If  I  go,  I  shall  see  my 
children — if  I  stay,  I  shall  mend  my  fortune.  Dined  at  home  and 
went  to  the  play  in  the  evening.  Lady  Torphichen  had  commanded 
the  play,  and  there  were  all  my  Swinton  cousins  young  and  old.  The 
play  was  "  A  Bold  Stroke  for  a  Wife,"  * — Charles  Kemble  acting  as 
Feignwell.  The  plot  is  extravagant  nonsense,  but  with  lively  acting 
the  ludicrousness  of  the  situation  bears  it  through,  and  few  comedies 
act  better.  After  this  came  Rob  Roy,  where  the  Bailie  played  with 
his  usual  excellence.  The  piece  was  not  over  until  near  one  in  the 
morning,  yet  I  did  not  feel  tired — which  is  much. 

March  V. — To-day  I  wrought  and  corrected  proof-sheets ;  went  to 
the  Court,  and  had  a  worry  at  the  usual  trashy  small  wares  which  are 
presented  at  the  end  of  a  Session.  An  official  predecessor  of  mine, 
the  facetious  Robert  Sinclair,  was  wont  to  say  the  three  last  days  of 
the  Session  should  be  abolished  by  Act  of  Parliament."  Came  home 
late,  and  was  a  good  deal  broken  in  upon  by  visitors.  Amongst 

i  By  Mrs.  Centlivre.  »  See  Life,  vol.  viii.  p.  257  n. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  365 

others,  John  Swinton,  now  of  Swinton,  brought  me  the  skull  of  his 
ancestor,  Sir  Allan  Swinton,  who  flourished  five  hundred  years  ago. 
I  will  get  a  cast  made  of  the  stout  old  carle.  It  is  rare  to  see  a  genu- 
ine relic  of  the  mortal  frame  drawing  so  far  back.  Went  to  my  Lord 
Gillies's  to  dinner,  and  witnessed  a  singular  exhibition  of  personifica- 
tion. 

Miss  Stirling  Grame,1  a  lady  of  the  Duntroon  family,  from  which 
Clavers  was  descended,  looks  like  thirty  years  old,  and  has  a  face  of 
the  Scottish  cast,  with  a  good  expression  in  point  of  good  sense  and 
good  humour.  Her  conversation,  so  far  as  I  have  had  the  advantage 
of  hearing  it,  is  shrewd  and  sensible,  but  no  ways  brilliant.  She  dined 
with  us,  went  off  as  to  the  play,  and  returned  in  the  character  of  an 
old  Scottish  lady.  Her  dress  and  behaviour  were  admirable,  and  the 
conversation  unique.  I  was  in  the  secret,  of  course,  did  my  best  to 
keep  up  the  ball,  but  she  cut  me  out  of  all  feather.  The  prosing  ac- 
count she  gave  of  her  son,  the  antiquary,  who  found  an  auld  wig  in  a 
slate  quarry,  was  extremely  ludicrous,  and  she  puzzled  the  Professor 
of  Agriculture  with  a  merciless  account  of  the  succession  of  crops  in 
the  parks  around  her  old  mansion-house.  No  person  to  whom  the 
secret  was  not  intrusted  had  the  least  guess  of  an  impostor,  except 
one  shrewd  young  lady  present,  who  observed  the  hand  narrowly 
and  saw  it  was  plumper  than  the  age  of  the  lady  seemed  to  war- 
rant. This  lady,  and  Miss  Bell 2  of  Coldstream,  have  this  gift  of 
personification  to  a  much  higher  degree  than  any  person  I  ever  saw. 

March  8. — Wrote  in  the  morning,  then  to  Court,  where  we  had  a 
sederunt  till  nigh  two  o'clock.  From  thence  to  the  Coal  Gas  Com- 
mittee, with  whom  we  held  another,  and,  thank  God,  a  final  meeting. 
Gibson  went  with  me.  They  had  Mr.  Munro,  Trotter,  Tom  Burns, 
and  Inglis.  The  scene  put  me  in  mind  of  Chichester  Cheyne's  story 
of  a  Shawnee  Indian  and  himself,  dodging  each  other  from  behind 
trees,  for  six  or  seven  hours,  each  in  the  hope  of  a  successful  shot. 
There  was  bullying  on  both  sides,  but  we  bullied  to  best  purpose,  for 

1  Miss  Graham  tells  us  in  her  Mystifications  sayings  as  Sir  Walter  himself.    For  example, 

(Edin.   1864)  that  Sir  Walter,  on  leaving  the  speaking  of  a  field  of  cold,  wet  land  she  said, 

room,  whispered  in  her  ear,  "  Awa,  awa,  the  "  It  grat  a'  winter  and  girned  a'  simmer,"  and 

Deil  's  ower  grit  wi'  you."    "To  meet  her  in  of  herself  one  morning  at  breakfast  when  she 

company,"  wrote  Dr.  John  Brown  half  a  ccn-  thought  she  was  getting  too  much  attention 

tury  later,  when  she  was  still  the  charm  and  from  her  guests  (she  was  at  this  time  over 

the  delight  as  well  as  the  centre  of  a  large  cir-  ninety)  she  exclaimed,  "I'm  like  the  bride  in 

cle  of  friends,  "one  saw  a  quiet,  unpretending,  the  old  song: — 
sensible,  shrewd,   kindly  little  lady;  perhaps 

you  would  not  remark  anything  extraordinary  Anrt  tj™  "°rree  ^kane  at  her  sh^n  ' " 
in  her,  but  let  her  put  on  the  old  lady  ;  it  was 

as  if  a  warlock  spell  had  passed  over  her;  not  Miss  Graham's  friends  will  never  forget  the 

merely  her  look  but  her  nature  was  changed:  evenings  they  have  spent  at  29  Forth  Street, 

her  spirit  had  passed  into  the  character  she  Edinburgh,  or  their  visits  at  Duntrune,  where 

represented;  and  jest,  quick  retort,  whimsical  the  venerable  lady  died  in  her  ninety-sixth 

fancy,  the  wildest  nonsense  flowed  from  her  year  in  September,  1877. 

lips,  with  a  freedom  and  truth  to  nature  which  2  Miss  Elizabeth  Bell,  daughter  of  the  Rev. 

appeared  to  be  impossible  in  her  own  person-  James  Bell,  minister  of  the  parish  of  Cold- 

ality."  stream  from  1778  to  1794.     This  lady  lived  all 

With  this  faculty  for  satire  and  imitation,  her  life  in  her  native  county,  and  died  at  a 

Miss  Graham  never  used  it  to  give  pain.    She  great  age  at  a  house  on  the  Tweed,  named 

was  as  much  at  home,  too,  with  old  Scotch  Springhill,  in  1876. 


366  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

we  must  have  surrendered  at  discretion,  notwithstanding  the  bold  face 
we  put  on  it.  On  the  other  hand,  I  am  convinced  they  have  got  a 
capital  bargain. 

March  9. — I  set  about  arranging  my  papers,  a  task  which  I  al- 
ways take  up  with  the  greatest  possible  ill-will  and  which  makes  me 
cruelly  nervous.  I  don't  know  why  it  should  be  so,  for  I  have  noth- 
ing particularly  disagreeable  to  look  at ;  far  from  it,  I  arn  better  than 
I  was  at  this  time  last  year,  my  hopes  firmer,  my  health  stronger,  my 
affairs  bettered  and  bettering.  Yet  I  feel  an  inexpressible  nervous- 
ness in  consequence  of  this  employment.  The  memory,  though  it 
retains  all  that  has  passed,  has  closed  sternly  over  it ;  and  this  rum- 
maging, like  a  bucket  dropped  suddenly  into  a  well,  deranges  and 
confuses  the  ideas  which  slumbered  on  the  mind.  I  am  nervous, 
and  I  am  bilious,  and,  in  a  word,  I  am  unhappy.  This  is  wrong,  very 
wrong ;  and  it  is  reasonably  to  be  apprehended  that  something  of  se- 
rious misfortune  will  be  the  deserved  punishment  of  this  pusillani- 
mous lowness  of  spirits.  Strange  that  one  who,  in  most  things,  may 
be  said  to  have  enough  of  the  "  care  na  by  ",  should  be  subject  to  such 
vile  weakness !  Well,  having  written  myself  down  an  ass,  I  will  daub 
it  no  farther,  but  e'en  trifle  till  the  humour  of  work  comes. 

Before  the  humour  came  I  had  two  or  three  long  visits.  Drum- 
mond  Hay,  the  antiquary  and  lyon-herald,  came  in.1  I  do  not  know 
anything  which  relieves  the  mind  so  much  from  the  sullens  as  tri- 
fling discussion  about  antiquarian  old-womanries.  It  is  like  knitting 
a  stocking,  diverting  the  mind  without  occupying  it ;  or  it  is  like,  by 
Our  Lady,  a  mill-dam,  which  leads  one's  thoughts  gently  and  imper- 
ceptibly out  of  the  channel  in  which  they  are  chafing  and  boiling. 
To  be  sure,  it  is  only  conducting  them  to  turn  a  child's  mill ;  what 
signifies  that? — the  diversion  is  a  relief,  though  the  object  is  of  little 
importance.  I  cannot  tell  what  we  talked  of ;  but  I  remember  we 
concluded  with  a  lamentation  on  the  unlikelihood  that  Government 
would  give  the  Museum  £2000  to  purchase  the  bronze  Apollo  lately 
discovered  in  France,  although  the  God  of  Delos  stands  six  feet  two 
in  his  stocking-soles,  and  is  perfectly  entire,  saving  that  on  the  right 
side  he  wants  half  a  hip,  and  the  leg  from  the  knee,  and  that  on  the 
left  his  heel  is  much  damaged.  Colonel  Ferguson  just  come  to  town 
— dines  with  us. 

March  10. — I  had  a  world  of  trumpery  to  do  this  morning :  cards 
to  write,  and  business  to  transact,  visits  to  make,  etc.  Received  let- 
ters from  the  youth  who  is  to  conduct  The  Keepsake,  with  blarney  on 
a  £200  Bank  note.  No  blarney  in  that.  I  must  set  about  doing 
something  for  these  worthies.  I  was  obliged  to  go  alone  to  dine 
at  Mr.  Scott  Gala's.  Met  the  Sinclair  family.  Lady  Sinclair  told  me 
a  singular  story  of  a  decrepit  man  keeping  a  lonely  toll  at  a  place 
called  the  Rowan-tree,  on  the  frontiers,  as  I  understood,  between 

'  Ante,  p.  166. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  367 

Ayrshire  and  Dumfriesshire  [Wigtownshire  ?].  It  was  a  wild,  lonely 
spot,  and  was  formerly  inhabited  by  robbers  and  assassins,  who  mur- 
dered passengers.  They  were  discovered  by  a  boy  whom  they  had 
taken  into  the  cottage  as  a  menial.  He  had  seen  things  which 
aroused  his  attention,  and  was  finally  enlightened  as  to  the  trade  of 
his  masters  by  hearing  one  of  them,  as  he  killed  a  goat,  remark  that 
the  cries  of  the  creature  resembled  those  of  the  last  man  they  had 
dealt  with.  The  boy  fled  from  the  house,  lodged  an  information, 
and  the  whole  household  was  seized  and  executed.  The  present  in- 
habitants Lady  Sinclair  described  as  interesting.  The  man's  feet 
and  legs  had  been  frost-bitten  while  herding  the  cattle,  and  never  re- 
covered the  strength  of  natural  limbs.  Yet  he  had  acquired  some 
education,  and  was  a  country  schoolmaster  for  some  time,  till  the  dis- 
tance and  loneliness  of  the  spot  prevented  pupils  from  attending. 
His  daughter  was  a  reader,  and  begged  for  some  old  magazines, 
newspapers,  or  any  printed  book,  that  she  might  enjoy  reading. 
They  might  have  been  better  had  they  been  allowed  to  keep  a  cow. 
But  if  they  had  been  in  comfortable  circumstances,  they  would  have 
had  visitors  and  lodgers,  who  might  have  carried  guns  to  destroy  the 
gentleman's  creation,  i.e.  game ;  and  for  this  risk  the  wretches  were 
kept  in  absolute  and  abject  poverty.  I  would  rather  be him- 
self than  this  brutal  Earl.  The  daughter  showed  Lady  Sinclair  a 
well  in  the  midst  of  a  small  bog,  of  great  depth,  into  which,  like 
Thurtell  and  Probert,  they  used  to  thrust  the  bodies  of  their  victims 
till  they  had  an  opportunity  of  burying  them.  Lady  Sinclair  stooped 
to  taste  the  water,  but  the  young  woman  said,  with  a  strong  expres- 
sion of  horror,  "  You  would  not  drink  it  ? "  Such  an  impression 
had  the  tale,  probably  two  centuries  old,  made  upon  the  present  in- 
habitants of  this  melancholy  spot.  The  whole  legend  is  curious ;  I 
will  try  to  get  hold  of  it.1 

March  11. — I  sent  Reynolds  a  sketch  of  two  Scottish  stories  for 
subjects  of  art  for  his  Keepsake — the  death  of  the  Laird's  Jock  the 
one,  the  other  the  adventure  of  Duncan  Stuart  with  the  stag. 

Mr.  Drummond  Hay  breakfasted  with  me — a  good  fellow,  but  a 
considerable  bore.  He  brought  me  a  beautiful  bronze  statue  of  Her- 
cules, about  ten  inches  or  a  foot  in  height,  beautifully  wrought.  He 
bought  it  in  France  for  70  francs,  and  refused  £300  from  Payne 
Knight.  It  is  certainly  a  most  beautiful  piece  of  art.  The  lion's 
hide  which  hung  over  the  shoulders  had  been  of  silver,  and,  to  turn 
it  to  account,  the  arm  over  which  it  hung  was  cut  off ;  otherwise  the 
statue  was  perfect  and  extremely  well  wrought.  Allan  Swinton's 
skull  sent  back  to  Archibald  Swinton. 

March  12. — The  boy  got  four  leaves  of  copy  to-day,  and  I  wrote 
three  more.  Received  by  Mr.  Cadell  from  Treuttel  and  Wurtz  for 
articles  in  Foreign  Review  £52,  10s.,  which  is  at  my  credit  with  him. 

1  The  Murder  Holt,  a  story  founded  on  the  tradition  and  under  this  name,  was  printed  in 
Blackwood's  Mag. ,  vol.  xxv.  p.  189 :  1829. 


368  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

Poor  Gillies  has  therefore  kept  his  word  so  far,  but  it  is  enough  to 
have  sacrificed  £100  to  him  already  in  literary  labour,  which  I  make 
him  welcome  to.  I  cannot  spare  him  more — which,  besides,  would 
do  him  no  good. 

March  13,  \Abbotsford\ — I  wrote  a  little  in  the  morning  and  sent 
off  some  copy.  We  came  off  from  Edinburgh  at  ten  o'clock,  and  got 
to  Abbotsford  by  four,  where  everything  looks  unusually  advanced ; 
the  birds  singing  and  the  hedges  budding,  and  all  other  prospects  of 
spring  too  premature  to  be  rejoiced  in. 

I  found  that,  like  the  foolish  virgins,  the  servants  had  omitted  to 
get  oil  for  my  lamp,  so  I  was  obliged  to  be  idle  all  the  evening.  But 
though  I  had  a  diverting  book,  the  Tales  of  the  Munster  Festivals,1 
yet  an  evening  without  writing  hung  heavy  on  my  hands.  The  Tales 
are  admirable.  But  they  have  one  fault,  that  the  crisis  is  in  more 
cases  than  one  protracted  after  a  keen  interest  has  been  excited,  to 
explain  and  to  resume  parts  of  the  story  which  should  have  been  told 
before.  Scenes  of  mere  amusement  are  often  introduced  betwixt  the 
crisis  of  the  plot  and  the  final  catastrophe.  This  is  impolitic.  But 
the  scenes  and  characters  are  traced  by  a  firm,  bold,  and  true  pencil, 
and  my  very  criticism  shows  that  the  catastrophe  is  interesting, — 
otherwise  who  would  care  for  its  being  interrupted  ? 

'March  [14  to]  16. — The  same  record  applies  to  these  three  days. 
From  seven  to  half-past  nine  writing — from  half-past  nine  to  a  quar- 
ter past  ten  a  hearty  breakfast.  From  eleven  or  thereby,  to  one  or 
two,  wrote  again,  and  from  one  or  two  ride,  drive,  or  walk  till  dinner- 
time— for  two  or  three  hours — five  till  seven,  dine  and  rest  yourself 
— seven  till  nine,  wrote  two  pages  more,  from  nine  to  quarter  past  ten 
lounge,  read  the  papers,  and  then  go  to  bed.  If  your  story  is  toler- 
ably forward  you  may,  I  think,  keep  at  this  rate  for  twelve  days, 
which  would  be  a  volume.  But  no  brain  could  hold  it  out  longer. 
Wrote  two  additional  leaves  in  the  evening. 

March  1 7. — Sent  away  copy  this  morning  to  J.  B.  with  proofs.  I 
then  wrote  all  the  day  till  two  o'clock,  walked  round  the  thicket  and 
by  the  water-side,  and  returning  set  to  work  again.  So  that  I  have 
finished  five  leaves  before  dinner,  and  may  discuss  two  more  if  I  can 
satisfy  myself  with  the  way  of  winding  up  the  story.  There  arc  al- 
ways at  the  end  such  a  plaguey  number  of  stitches  to  take  up,  which 
usually  are  never  so  well  done  but  they  make  a  botch.  I  will  try  if 
the  cigar  will  inspire  me.  Hitherto  I  have  been  pretty  clear,  and  I 
see  my  way  well  enough,  only  doubt  of  making  others  see  it  with 
sufficient  simplicity.  But  it  is  near  five,  and  I  am  too  hungry  to 
write  more.* 

"  Ego  nunquam  potui  scriberc  jejunus." 

March  18. — I  was  sorely  worried  by  the  black  dog  this  morning, 

>  Written  by  Gerald  Griffin.  *  St.  Valentine's  Eve,  or  The  Fair  Maid  of 

Perth. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  369 

that  vile  palpitation  of  the  heart — that  tremor  cordis — that  hysterical 
passion  which  forces  unbidden  sighs  and  tears,  and  falls  upon  a  con- 
tented life  like  a  drop  of  ink  on  white  paper,  which  is  not  the  less  a 
stain  because  it  conveys  no  meaning.  I  wrought  three  leaves,  how- 
ever, and  the  story  goes  on.  I  dined  at  the  Club  of  the  Selkirkshire, 
yeomanry,  now  disbanded. 

"The  Eldrich  knight  gave  up  his  arms 
With  many  a  sorrowful  sigh." 

The  dissolution  of  the  Yeomanry  was  the  act  of  the  last  ministry. 
The  present  did  not  alter  the  measure  on  account  of  the  expense 
saved.  I  am  one  of  the  oldest,  if  not  the  very  oldest  Yeoman  in 
Scotland,  and  have  seen  the  rise,  progress,  and  now  the  fall  of  this 
very  constitutional  part  of  the  national  force.  Its  efficacy,  on  oc- 
casions of  insurrection,  was  sufficiently  proved  in  the  Radical  time. 
But  besides,  it  kept  up  a  spirit  of  harmony  between  the  proprietors 
of  land  and  the  occupiers,  and  made  them  known  to  and  beloved  by 
each  other ;  and  it  gave  to  the  young  men  a  sort  of  military  and 
high-spirited  character,  which  always  does  honour  to  a  country.  The 
manufacturers  are  in  great  glee  on  this  occasion.  I  wish  Parlia- 
ment, as  they  have  turned  the  Yeoman  adrift  somewhat  scornfully, 
may  not  have  occasion  to  roar  them  in  again.1 

March  19. — I  applied  myself  again  to  my  labour,  my  mind  flow- 
ing in  a  less  gloomy  current  than  yesterday.  I  laboured  with  little 
interruption,  excepting  a  walk  as  far  as  Faldonside  with  the  dogs,  and 
at  night  I  had  not  finished  more  than  three  leaves.  But,  indeed,  it 
is  pretty  fair ;  I  must  not  work  my  brains  too  hard,  in  case  of  pro- 
voking the  hypochondria  which  extreme  exertion  or  entire  indolence 
are  equally  unfavourable  to. 

March  20. — Thomson  breakfasted.  I  left  him  soon,  being  desir- 
ous to  finish  my  labours.  The  volume  is  finished,  all  but  one  fourth 
or  somewhat  shorter ;  four  days  should  despatch  it  easily,  but  I  have 
letters  to  write  and  things  are  getting  into  disorder.  I  took  a  drive 
with  my  daughter,  for  exercise,  and  called  at  Huntly  Burn.  This 
evening  went  on  with  work  as  usual ;  there  was  not  above  four  pages 
finished,  but  my  conscience  is  quiet  on  my  exertions. 

March  21. — I  received  young  Whytbank  to  breakfast,  and  talked 
genealogy,  which  he  understands  well ;  I  have  not  a  head  for  it.  I 
only  value  it  as  interspersed  with  anecdote.  Whytbank's  relationship 
and  mine  exists  by  the  Shaws.  A  younger  brother  of  Shaw  of  Sau- 
chie,  afterwards  Greenock,  chief  of  the  name,  was  minister  of  the 
Kirk  of  Selkirk.  My  great-grandfather,  John  Rutherford,  minister 
of  the  gospel  at  Yarrow,  married  one  of  this  reverend  gentleman's 
daughters ;  and  John  Pringle,  rector  of  Fogo,  great-grandfather  of 
the  present  Whytbank,  married  another.  It  was  Christian  Shaw,  my 

i  Coriolanus,  Act  vi.  Sc.  6. 
24 


370  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

| 

grandmother,  who  possessed  the  manuscript  respecting  the  murder  of 
the  Shaws  by  the  Master  of  Sinclair.1  She  could  not,  according  to 
the  reckoning  of  that  age,  be  a  distant  relation.  Whytbank  parted, 
agreeing  to  return  to  dinner  to  meet  the  bride  and  bridegroom.  I 
had  little  time  to  write,  for  Colonel  Russell,  my  cousin,  called  between 
one  and  two,  and  he  also  agreed  to  stay  dinner ;  so  I  had  a  walk 
of  three  hours  with  him  in  the  plantations.  At  dinner  we  had  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bruce,  Mr.  Scrope,  Mrs.  and  Dr.  Brewster,  Whytbank,  Rus- 
sell, and  young  Nicol  Milne,  who  will  be  a  pleasant  lad  if  he  had  a 
little  polish.  I  was  glad  of  the  society,  as  I  had  rather  felt  the  besoin 
de  parler,  which  was  perhaps  one  cause  of  my  recent  dumps.  Scrope 
and  Colonel  Russell  stayed  all  night ;  the  rest  went  home. 

March  22. — Had  a  packet  from  James — low  about  the  novel ;  but 
I  had  another  from  Cadell  equally  uppish.  He  proposes  for  three 
novels  in  eighteen  months,  which  would  be  £12,600.  Well,  I  like 
the  bookseller's  predictions  better  than  the  printer's.  Neither  are 
bad  judges;  but  James,  who  is  the  best,  is  not  sensible  of  historical 
descriptions,  and  likes  your  novel  style  out  and  out. 

Cadell's  letter  also  contained  a  state  of  cash  matters,  since  much 
improved.  I  will  arrange  them  a  day  or  two  hence.  I  wrote  to-day 
and  took  a  long  walk.  The  thought  more  than  once  passed  over  me, 
Why  go  to  London?  I  shall  but  throw  away  £150  or  £200  which 
were  better  saved.  Then  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  such  a  gratification 
to  see  all  the  children  that  I  must  be  tempted.  If  I  were  alone,  I  could 
scrub  it,  but  there's  no  doing  that  with  Anne. 

March  23. — I  wrought  regularly  till  one,  and  then  took  the  wood 
and  marked  out  to  Tom  the  places  I  would  have  thinned,  particularly 
at  the  Carlin's  hole,  which  will  require  much  thinning.  I  had  a  letter 
from  Cadell  stating  that  3000  Tales  of  a,  Grandfather  must  go  to 
press,  bringing  a  return  to  me  of  £240,  the  price  being  £80  per  thou- 
sand. This  is  snug  enough,  and  will  prettily  cover  my  London  jour- 
ney, and  I  really  think  ought  in  fairness  to  silence  my  prudential  re- 
morse. With  my  usual  delight  in  catching  an  apology  for  escaping 
the  regular  task  of  the  day,  I  threw  by  the  novel  of  St.  Valentine's 
Eve  and  began  to  run  through  and  correct  the  Grandfather's  Talcs 
for  the  press.  If  I  live  to  finish  them,  they  will  be  a  good  thing  for 
my  younger  children.  If  I  work  to  the  amount  of  £10,000  a  year 
for  the  creditors,  I  think  I  may  gain  a  few  hundreds  for  my  own  fam- 
ily at  by-hours. 

March  24. — Se«t  copy  and  proof  to  J.  B."  I  continued  my  revi- 
sion of  the  Tales  of  a  Grandfather  till  half-past  one.  Then  went  to 

1  Ante,  p.  300.  printing  that  the  Douglases  after  James  n.  had 

a  It  may  have  been  with  this  packet  that  the  dirked  the  Earl,  trailed  the  royal  safe-conduct 

following  admonitory  note  was  sent  to  Ballan-  at  the  TAIL  of  a  serving  man,  instead  of  the 

tyne: — "DEAR  JAMES, — I  return  the  sheets  of  tail  of  a  starved  Mare. — Yours  truly,  however, 

Tales  with  some  waste  of  Napoleon  for  ballast.  W.  S."     So  printed  in  first  edition,  vol.  ii.  p. 

Pray  read  like  a  lynx,  for  with  all  your  devoted  129,  but  corrected  in  the  subsequent  editions  to 

attention  things  will  escape.     Imagine  your  "  a  miserable  cart  jade. " 


1828.J  JOURNAL         ^  371 

Torwoodlee  to  wait  on  George  Pringle  and  his  bride.  We  did  not 
see  the  young  people,  but  the  old  Laird  and  Miss  Pringle  gave  us  a 
warm  reception,  and  seemed  very  happy  on  the  occasion.  We  had 
friends  to  dinner,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Theobald,  Charles  Kerr  and  his  wife, 
my  old  acquaintance  Magdalen  Hepburn,  whose  whole  [kin]  was  known 
to  me  and  mine.  I  have  now  seen  the  fifth  generation  of  the  family 
in  Mrs.  Kerr's  little  girl,  who  travels  with  them.  Well — I  partly  wish 
we  had  been  alone.  Yet  it  is  perhaps  better.  We  made  our  day  out 
tolerably  well,  having  the  advantage  of  Mr.  Davidoff  and  his  friend 
Mr.  Collyer  to  assist  us. 

March  25. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kerr  left  us,  Mr.  Davidoff  and  Mr.  Coll- 
yer also.  Mr.  Davidoff  showed  himself  a  good  deal  affected.  I  hope 
well  of  this  young  nobleman,  and  trust  the  result  will  justify  my  ex- 
pectations, but  it  may  be  doubted  if  his  happiness  be  well  considered 
by  those  who  send  a  young  person,  destined  to  spend  his  life  under 
a  despotic  government,  to  receive  the  ideas  and  opinions  of  such  a 
people  as  we  are  : 

"  where  ignorance  is  bliss, 
'Tis  folly  to  be  wise."1 

We  drove  as  far  as  Yair  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Theobald.  The  lady  read 
after  dinner — and  read  well. 

March  26. — The  Theobalds  left  us,  giving  me  time  to  work  a  lit- 
tle. A  walk  of  two  hours  diversified  my  day.  I  received  Cadell's 
scheme  for  the  new  edition.  I  fear  the  trustees  will  think  Cadell's 
•plan  expensive  in  the  execution.  Yet  he  is  right ;  for,  to  ensure  a 
return  of  speedy  sale,  the  new  edition  should  be  both  handsome  and 
cheap.  He  proposes  size  a  Royal  12 mo,  with  a  capital  engraving  to 
each  volume  from  a  design  by  the  best  artists.  This  infers  a  mon- 
strous expense,  but  in  the  present  humour  of  the  public  ensures  the 
sale.  The  price  will  be  5s.  per  volume,  and  the  whole  set,  32  volumes, 
from  Waverley  to  Woodstock  included,  will  be  £8. 

March  27. — This  also  was  a  day  of  labour,  affording  only  my  usual 
interval  of  a  walk.  Five  or  six  sheets  was  the  result.  We  now  ap- 
propinque  an  end.  My  story  has  unhappily  a  divided  interest ;  there 
are  three  distinct  strands  of  the  rope,  and"  they  are  not  well  twisted 
together.  "Ah,  Sirs,  a  foul  fawt,"  as  Captain  Tommy  says. 

March  28. — The  days  have  little  to  distinguish  each  other,  very 
little.  The  morning  study,  the  noontide  walk,  all  monotonous  and 
inclined  to  be  melancholy  ;  God  help  me  !  But  I  have  not  had  any 
nervous  attack.  Read  Tales  of  an  Antiquary?  one  of  the  chime  of 
bells  which  I  have  some  hand  in  setting  a-ringing.  He  is  really  en- 
titled to  the  name  of  an  antiquary ;  but  he  has  too  much  description 
in  proportion  to  the  action.  There  is  a  capital  wardrobe  of  proper- 
ties, but  the  performers  do  not  act  up  to  their  character. 

1  Gray's  Ode  on  Eton.  2  By  Richard  Thomson,  author  of  Chronicles 

of  London  Bridge,  etc.    He  died  in  1865. 


372  ^         JOURNAL  [MARCH,  1828. 

March  29. — Finished  volume  third  this  morning.  I  have  let  no 
grass  grow  beneath  my  heels  this  bout. 

Mr.  Cadell  with  J.  and  A.  Ballantyne  came  to  dinner.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  George  Pringle,  new  married,  dined  with  us  and  old  Torwood- 
lee.  Sandy's  music  made  the  evening  go  sweetly  down. 

March  30. — A  long  discourse  with  Cadell,  canvassing  his  scheme. 
He  proposes  I  should  go  on  immediately  with  the  new  novel.  This 
will  furnish  a  fund  from  which  may  be  supplied  the  advances  neces- 
sary for  the  new  work,  which  are  considerable,  and  may  reach  from 
£4000  to  £8000 — the  last  sum  quite  improbable — before  it  makes  re- 
turns. Thus  we  can  face  the  expenditure  necessary  to  set  on  foot  our 
great  work.  I  have  written  to  recommend  the  plan  to  John  Gibson. 
This  theme  renewed  from  time  to  time  during  the  forenoon.  Dr. 
Clarkson1  dined  with  us.  We  smoked  and  had  whisky  and  water  after. 

March  31. — The  Ballantynes  and  Cadell  left  us  in  high  spirits, 
expecting  much  from  the  new  undertaking,  and  I  believe  they  arc 
not  wrong.  As  for  me,  I  became  torpid  after  a  great  influx  of  morn- 
ing visitors. 

"I  grew  vapourish  and  odd, 

And  would  not  do  the  least  right  thing, 
Neither  for  goddess  nor  for  god — 
Nor  paint  nor  jest  nor  laugh,  nor  sing." 

I  was  quite  reluctant  to  write  letters,  or  do  anything  whatsoever,  and 
yet  I  should  surely  write  to  Sir  Cuthbert  Sharp  and  Surtees.  We 
dined  alone.  I  was  main  stupid,  indeed,  and  much  disposed  to  sleep, 
though  my  dinner  was  very  moderate. 

i  Dr.  Ebenczer  Clarkson,  a  Surgeon  of  dis-  Daughter,  Sir  Walter's  neighbours  on  Tweed- 

tinguished  merit  at  Selkirk  and  through  life  a  side  saw  a  true  picture— a  portrait  from  life  of 

trusty  friend  and  crony  of  the  Sheriff's. — J.G.L.  Scott's  hard-riding  and  sagacious  old  friend  to 

"In   Mr.  Gideon   Gray,  in   The   Surgeon's  all  the  country  dear. " — Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  181. 


APRIL 

April  1. — All  Fools'  day,  the  only  Saint  that  keeps  up  some  de- 
gree of  credit  in  the  world  ;  for  fools  we  are  with  a  vengeance.  On 
this  memorable  festival  we  played  the  fool  with  great  decorum  at 
Colonel  Ferguson's,  going  to  visit  them  in  a  cold  morning.  In  the 
evening  I  had  a  distressing  letter  from  Mrs.  MacBarnet,  or  some  such 
name,  the  daughter  of  Captain  Macpherson,  smothered  in  a  great  snow 
storm.  They  are  very  angry  at  the  Review  for  telling  a  rawhead  and 
bloody  bones  story  about  him.  I  have  given  the  right  version  of  the 
tale  willingly,  but  this  does  not  satisfy.  I  almost  wish  they  would 
turn  out  a  clansman  to  be  free  of  the  cumber.  The  vexation  of  hav- 
ing to  do  with  ladies,  who  on  such  a  point  must  be  unreasonable,  is 
very  great.  With  a  man  it  would  be  soon  ended  or  mended.  It 
really  hurts  my  sleep. 

April  2. — I  wrote  the  lady  as  civilly  as  I  could,  explaining  why  I 
made  no  further  apology,  which  may  do  some  good.  Then  a  cursed 
morning  of  putting  to  rights,  which  drives  me  well-nigh  mad.  At 
two  or  three  I  must  go  to  a  funeral — a  happy  and  interesting  relief 
from  my  employment.  It  is  a  man  I  am  sorry  for,  who  married  my 
old  servant,  Bell  Ormiston.  He  was  an  excellent  person  in  his  way, 
and  a  capital  mason — a  great  curler. 

April  3. — Set  off  at  eight  o'clock,  and  fought  forward  to  Carlisle 
— a  sad  place  in  my  domestic  remembrances,  since  here  I  married  my 
poor  Charlotte.  She  is  gone,  and  I  am  following  faster,  perhaps,  than 
1  wot  of.  It  is  something  to  have  lived  and  loved ;  and  our  poor 
children  are  so  hopeful  and  affectionate,  that  it  chastens  the  sadness 
attending  the  thoughts  of  our  separation.  We  slept  at  Carlisle.  I 
have  not  forgiven  them  for  destroying  their  quiet  old  walls,  and 
building  two  lumpy  things  like  mad-houses.  The  old  gates  had  such 
a  respectable  appearance  once, 

"When  Scotsmen's  heads  did  guard  the  wall." 

Come,  I'll  write  down  the  whole  stanza,  which  is  all  that  was  known 
to  exist  of  David  Hume's  poetry,  as  it  was  written  on  a  pane  of  glass 
in  the  inn  : — 

"  Here  chicks  in  eggs  for  breakfast  sprawl, 
Here  godless  boys  God's  glories  squall, 
Here  Scotsmen's  heads  do  guard  the  wall, 
But  Corby's  walks  atone  for  all." 


374  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

^  L 

The  poetical  works  of  David  Hume,  Esq.,  might,  as  book-makers  know 
now,  be  driven  out  to  a  handsome  quarto.  Line  1st  admits  of  a  de- 
scant upon  eggs  roasted,  boiled  or  poached  ;  2d,  a  history  of  Carlisle 
Cathedral  with  some  reasons  why  the  choir  there  has  been  proverb- 
ially execrable;  3d,  the  whole  history  of  1745  with  minute  memoirs 
of  such  as  mounted  guard  on  the  Scotch  gate.  I  remember  the 
spikes  the  heads  stood  upon  ;  lastly,  a  description  of  Corby  Castle 
with  a  plan,  and  the  genealogy  of  the  Howards.  Gad,  the  book- 
sellers would  give  me  £500  for  it.  I  have  a  mind  to  print  it  for  the 
Bannatynians. 

April  4. — In  our  stage  to  Penrith  I  introduced  Anne  to  the  an- 
cient Petreia,  called  Old  Penrith,  and  also  to  the  grave  of  Sir  Ewain 
Caesarias,1  that  knight  with  the  puzzling  name,  which  has  got  more 
indistinct.  We  breakfasted  at  Buchanan's  Inn,  Penrith,  one  of  the 
best  on  the  road,  and  a  fine  stanch  fellow  owned  it.  He  refused 
passage  to  some  of  the  delegates  who  traversed  the  country  during 
the  Radical  row,  and  when  the  worthies  threatened  him  with  popular 
vengeance,  answered  gallantly  that  he  had  not  lived  so  long  by  the 
Crown  to  desert  it  at  a  pinch.  The  Crown  is  the  sign  of  his  inn. 
Slept  at  Garstang,  an  indifferent  house.  As  a  petty  grievance,  my 
ink-holder  broke  loose  in  the  case,  and  spilt  some  of  the  ink  on 
Anne's  pelisse.  Misfortunes  seldom  come  single.  "  'Tis  not  alone 
the  inky  cloak,  good  daughter,"  but  I  forgot  at  Garstang  my  two 
breastpins ;  one  with  Walter  and  Jane's  hair,  another  a  harp  of  pure 
Irish  gold,  the  gift  of  the  ladies  of  Llangollen.8 

April  5. — Breakfasted  at  Chorley,  and  slept  at  Leek.  We  were 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  some  fine  rock-scenery,  but  the  day  was  un- 
favourable ;  besides,  I  did  not  come  from  Scotland  to  seek  rocks,  I 
trow. 

April  6. — Easter  Sunday.  WTe  breakfasted  at  Ashbourne  and 
went  from  thence  to  Derby  ;  and  set  off  from  thence  to  Drycot  Hall 
(five  miles)  to  visit  Hugh  Scott.  But  honest  Hugh  was,  like  ourselves, 
on  the  ramble  ;  so  we  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  drive  back  to  Derby, 
and  from  thence  to  Tamworth,  where  we  slept. 

April  7. — We  visited  the  Castle  in  the  morning.  It  is  inhabited 
by  a  brother-in-law  of  the  proprietor;  and  who  is  the  proprietor? 
"  Why,  Mr.  Robbins,"  said  the  fat  house-keeper.  This  was  not  a  name 
quite  according  with  the  fine  chivalrous  old  hall,  in  which  there  was 
no  small  quantity  of  armour,  and  odds  and  ends,  which  I  would  have 
been  glad  to  possess.  "  Well,  but  madam,  before  Mr.  Robbins  bought 
the  place,  who  was  the  proprietor  ?"  "  Lord  Charles  Townshend, 
sir."  This  would  not  do  neither ;  but  a  genealogy  hanging  above  the 
chimney-piece  informed  me  that  the  Ferrars  were  the  ancient  possess- 

1  For  an  account  of  this   monument  see         *  Lady  Eleanor  Butler  and  the  Hon.  Miss 

Nicolson  and  Burns's  History  of  Westmoreland  Ponsonhy.    An  amusing  account  of  Sir  Walter's 

and  Cumberland,  vol.  ii.  p.  410,  and  "Xotabilia  visit  to  them  in  1825  is  given  by  Mr.  Lockhart 

of  Penrith,"  by  George  Watson,  C.  and   W.  in  the  Life,  vol.  viii  pp.  47-50. 
Transactions,  No.  xiv. 


1828.J  JOURNAL  375 

ors  of  the  mansion,  which,  indeed,  the  horseshoes  in  the  shield  over 
the  Castle  gate  might  have  intimated.  Tamworth  is  a  fine  old  place, 
neglected,  but,  therefore,  more  like  hoar  antiquity.  The  keep  is 
round.  The  apartments  appear  to  have  been  modernised  tempore 
Jac.  Imi.  There  was  a  fine  demipique  saddle,  said  to  have  been  that 
of  James  n.  The  pommel  rose,  and  finished  off  in  the  form  of  a 
swan's  crest,  capital  for  a  bad  horseman  to  hold  on  by. 

To  show  Anne  what  was  well  worth  seeing,  we  visited  Kenilworth. 
The  relentless  rain  only  allowed  us  a  glimpse  of  this  memorable  ruin. 
Well,  the  last  time  I  was  here,  in  1815,1  these  trophies  of  time  were 
quite  neglected.  Now  they  approach  so  much  nearer  the  splendour 
of  Thunder-ten-tronckh,  as  to  have  a  door  at  least,  if  not  windows. 
They  are,  in  short,  preserved  an  protected.  So  much  for  the  novels. 
I  observed  decent  children  begging  here,  a  thing  uncommon  in  Eng- 
land :  and  I  recollect  the  same  unseemly  practice  formerly. 

We  went  to  Warwick  Castle.  The  neighbourhood  of  Leamington, 
a  watering-place  of  some  celebrity,  has  obliged  the  family  to  decline 
showing  the  castle  after  ten  o'clock.  I  tried  the  virtue  of  an  old 
acquaintance  with  Lord  Warwick  and  wrote  to  him,  he  being  in  the 
Courthouse  where  the  assizes  were  sitting.  After  some  delay  we 
were  admitted,  and  I  found  my  old  friend  Mrs.  Hume,  in  the  most 
perfect  preservation,  though,  as  she  tells  me,  now  eighty-eight.  She 
went  through  her  duty  wonderfully,  though  now  and  then  she  com- 
plained of  her  memory.  She  has  laid  aside  a  mass  of  black  plumes 
which  she  wore  on  her  head,  and  which  resembled  the  casque  in  the 
Castle  of  Otranto.  Warwick  Castle  is  still  the  noblest  sight  in  Eng- 
land. Lord  and  Lady  Warwick  came  home  from  the  Court,  and  re- 
ceived us  most  kindly.  We  lunched  with  them,  but  declined  fur- 
ther hospitality.  When  I  was  last  here,  and  for  many  years  before, 
the  unfortunate  circumstances  of  the  late  Lord  W.  threw  an  air  of 
neglect  about  everything.  I  believe  the  fine  collection  of  picture? 
would  have  been  sold  by  distress,  if  Mrs.  Hume,  my  friend,  had 
not  redeemed  them  at  her  own  cost.2  I  was  pleased  to  see  Lord 
Warwick  show  my  old  friend  kindness  and  attention.  We  visited 
the  monuments  of  the  Nevilles  and  Beauchamps,  names  which  make 
the  heart  thrill.  The  monuments  are  highly  preserved.  We  con- 
cluded the  day  at  Stratford-upon-Avon. 

1  The  visit  to  Kenilworth  in  1815  is  not  no-  The  famous  romance  did  not  appear  until  six 

ticed  in  the  Life,  but  as  Scott  was  in  London  years  later,  viz.  in  January,  1821,  and  in  the  au- 

for  some  weeks  in  the  spring  of  that  year  he  tumn  of  that  year  it  is  somewhat  singular  to 

may  have  gone  there  on  his  return  journey.  find  that  Scott  and  his  friend  Mr.  Stewart  Rose 

Mr.  Charles  Knight,  writing  in  1842,  says  that  are  at  Stratford-on-Avon  writing  their  names 

Mr.  Bonnington,  the  venerable  occupant  of  the  on  the  wall  of  Shakespeare's  birthplace— and 

Gate  House,  told  him  that  he  remembered  the  yet  leaving  Kenilworth  unvisited.— Perhaps  the 

visit  and  the  visitor!     It  was  "about  twenty-  reason  was  that  Mr.  Stewart  Rose  was  not  in 

five  years  ago" — and  after  examining  some  the  secret  of  the  authorship  of  the  Novels, 

carving  in  the  interior  of  the  Gate  House  and  -  In  the  Annual  Register  for  July,  1834,  is  the 

putting  many  suggestive  questions,  the  mid-  following  notice:  "Lately  at  Warwick  Castle, 

die-aged  active  straugor  slightly  lame,  and  with  aged  ninety-three,  Mrs.  Home,  for  upwards  of 

keen  grey  eye,  passed  through  the  court  and  seventy  years  a  servant  of  the  Warwick  family, 

remained  among  the  ruins  silent  and  alone  for  She  had  the  privilege  of  showing  the  Castle,  by 

about  two  hours.    (SWcspeare,  vol.  i.  p.  89.)  which  she  realised  upwards  of  £30,000. 


376  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

April  8. — We  visited  the  tomb  of  the  mighty  wizard.  It  is  in 
the  bad  taste  of  James  the  First's  reign  ;  but  what  a  magic  does  the 
locality  possess  !  There  are  stately  monuments  of  forgotten  families ; 
but  when  you  have  seen  Shakspeare's  what  care  we  for  the  rest.  All 
around  is  Shakspeare's  exclusive  property.  I  noticed  the  monument 
of  his  friend  John  a  Combe  immortalised  as  drawing  forth  a  brief 
satirical  notice  of  four  lines. 

After  breakfast  I  asked  after  Mrs.  Ormsby,  the  old  mad  woman 
who  was  for  some  time  tenant  of  Shakspeare's  house,  and  conceived 
herself  to  be  descended  from  the  immortal  poet.  I  learned  she  was 
dying.  I  thought  to  send  her  a  sovereign  ;  but  this  extension  of  our 
tour  has  left  me  no  more  than  will  carry  me  through  my  journey, 
and  I  do  not  like  to  run  short  upon  the  road.  So  I  take  credit  for 
my  good  intention,  and — keep  my  sovereign — a  cheap  and  not  un- 
usual mode  of  giving  charity. 

.  Learning  from  Washington  Irving's  description  of  Stratford  that 
the  hall  of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  the  justice  who  rendered  Warwickshire 
too  hot  for  Shakspeare,  and  drove  him  to  London,  was  still  extant, 
we  went  in  quest  of  it. 

Charlcote  is  in  high  preservation,  and  inhabited  by  Mr.  Lucy,  de- 
scendant of  the  worshipful  Sir  Thomas.  -The  Hall  is  about  three 
hundred  years  old,  an  old  brick  structure  with  a  gate-house  in  ad- 
vance. It  was  surrounded  by  venerable  oaks,  realising  the  imagery 
which  Shakspeare  loved  so  well  to  dwell  upon  ;  rich  verdant  past- 
ures extend  on  every  side,  and  numerous  herds  of  deer  were  repos- 
ing in  the  shade.  All  showed  that  the  Lucy  family  had  retained 
their  "  land  and  beeves."  While  we  were  surveying  the  antlered  old 
hall,  with  its  painted  glass  and  family  pictures,  Mr.  Lucy  came  to  wel- 
come us  in  person,  and  to  show  the  house,  with  the  collection  of  paint- 
ings, which  seems  valuable,  and  to  which  he  had  made  many  valuable 
additions. 

He  told  me  the  park  from  which  Shakspeare  stole  the  buck  was 
not  that  which  surrounds  Charlcote,  but  belonged  to  a  mansion  at 
some  distance  where  Sir  Thomas  Lucy  resided  at  the  time  of  the 
trespass.  The  tradition  went  that  they  hid  the  buck  in  a  barn,  part 
of  which  was  standing  a  few  years  ago,  but  now  totally  decayed. 
This  park  no  longer  belongs  to  the  Lucys.  The  house  bears  no 
marks  of  decay,  but  seems  the  abode  of  ease  and  opulence.  There 
were  some  fine  old  books,  and  I  was  told  of  many  more  which  were 
not  in  order.  How  odd  if  a  folio  Shakspeare  should  be  found 
amongst  them !  Our  early  breakfast  did  not  prevent  my  taking  ad- 
vantage of  an  excellent  repast  offered  by  the  kindness  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lucy,  the  last  a  lively  Welshwoman.  This  visit  gave  me  great 
pleasure ;  it  really  brought  Justice  Shallow  freshly  before  my  eyes ; 
the  luces  in  his  arms  "  which  do  become  an  old  coat  well  " '  were  not 

1  Merry  Wives,  Act  i.  Sc.  1. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  377 

more  plainly  portrayed  in  his  own  armorials  in  the  hall-window  than 
was  his  person  in  my  mind's  eye.  There  is  a  picture  shown  as  that 
of  the  old  Sir  Thomas,  but  Mr.  Lucy  conjectures  it  represents  his  son. 
There  were  three  descents  of  the  same  name  of  Thomas.  The  party 
hath  uthe  eye  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut,"  which  fills  up  with 
judicial  austerity  the  otherwise  social  physiognomy  of  the  worshipful 
presence,  with  his  "  fair  round  belly  with  fat  capon  lined."  ' 

We  resumed  our  journey.  I  may  mention  among  the  pictures  at 
Charlcote  one  called  a  Roman  Knight,  which  seemed  to  me  very  fine ; 
Teniers'  marriage,  in  which,  contrary  to  the  painter's  wont,  only  per- 
sons of  distinction  are  represented,  but  much  in  the  attitude  in  which 
he  delights  to  present  his  boors ;  two  hawking  pieces  by  Wouver- 
mans,  very  fine  specimens,  cum  aliis. 

We  took  our  way  by  Edgehill,  and  looked  over  the  splendid  rich- 
ness of  the  fine  prospect  from  a  sort  of  gazeeboo  or  modern  antique 
tower,  the  place  of  a  Mr.  Miller.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  a  richer 
and  more  peaceful  scene  than  that  which  stretched  before  us,  and 
[one  with  which]  strife,  or  the  memory  of  strife,  seems  to  have  noth- 
ing to  do. 

"But  man  records  his  own  disgrace, 
And  Edgehill  lives  in  history." 

We  got  on  to  Buckingham,  an  ugly  though  I  suppose  an  ancient 
town.  Thence  to  Aylesbury  through  the  wealth  of  England,  in  the 
scene  of  the  old  ballad — 

"Neither  drunk  nor  sober,  but  neighbour  to  both, 
I  met  with  a  man  in  Aylesbury  vale; 
I  saw  by  his  face  that  he  was  in  good  case, 
To  speak  no  great  harm  of  a  pot  of  good  ale." 

We  slept  at  Aylesbury.  The  landlord,  who  seemed  sensible,  told 
me  that  the  land  round  the  town,  being  the  richest  in  England,  lets 
at  £3,  or  £3, 10s.  and  some  so  high  as  £4  per  acre.  But  the  poor- 
rates  are  1 3s.  to  the  pound.  Now,  my  Whitehaugh  at  Huntly  Burn 
yielded  at  last  set  £4  per  acre. 

April  9,  [London]. — We  got  to  town  about  mid-day,  and  found 
Sophia,  Lockhart,  and  the  babies  quite  well — delighted  with  their 
companion  Charles,  and  he  enchanted  with  his  occupation  in  the 
Foreign  Office.  I  looked  into  my  cash  and  found  £53  had  dimin- 
ished on  the  journey  down  to  about  £3.  In  former  days  a  journey 
to  London  cost  about  £30  or  thirty  guineas.  It  may  now  cost  one- 
fourth  more.  But  I  own  I  like  to  pay  postilions  and  waiters  rather 
more  liberally  than  perhaps  is  right.  I  hate  grumbling  and  sour 
faces ;  and  the  whole  saving  will  not  exceed  a  guinea  or  two  for  be- 
ing cursed  and  damned  from  Dan  to  Beersheba.  Wre  had  a  joyful 
meeting,  I  promise  you.* 

i  As  You  Like  It,  Act  n.  Sc.  7.  in  London.    His  eldest  son's  regiment  was  sta- 

1  Sir  Walter  remained  at  this  time  six  weeks      tioned  at  Hampton  Court;  his  second  son  had 


378  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

April  10. — I  spent  the  morning  in  bringing  up  my  journal;  in- 
terrupted by  two  of -these  most  sedulous  visitants  who  had  objects  of 
their  own  to  serve,  and  smelled  out  my  arrival  as  the  raven  scents 
carrion — a  vile  comparison,  though  what  better  is  an  old  fellow, 
mauled  with  rheumatism  and  other  deplorables  ?  Went  out  at  two 
and  saw  Miss  Dumergue  and  other  old  friends ;  Sotheby  in  particu- 
lar, less  changed  than  any  one  I  have  seen.  Looked  in  at  Murray's 
and  renewed  old  habits.  This  great  city  seems  almost  a  waste  to 
me,  so  many  of  my  friends  are  gone ;  Walter  and  Jane  coming  up, 
the  whole  family  dined  together,  and  were  very  happy.  The  chil- 
dren joined  in  our  festivity.  My  name-son,  a  bright  and  blue-eyed 
rogue,  with  flaxen  hair,  screams  and  laughs  like  an  April  morning ; 
and  the  baby  is  that  species  of  dough  which  is  called  a  fine  baby. 
I  care  not  for  children  till  they  care  a  little  for  me. 

April  11. — Made  calls,  walked  myself  tired;  saw  Rogers,  Sharp, 
Sotheby,  and  other  old  friends. 

April  12. — Dinner  at  home;  a  little  party  of  S6phia's  in  the 
evening.  Sharp  told  me  that  one  evening  being  at  Sheridan's  house 
with  a  large  party,  Tom  S.  came  to  him  as  the  night  drew  late,  and 
said  in  a  whisper,  "  I  advise  you  to  secure  a  wax-light  to  go  to  bed 
with,"  shewing  him  at  the  same  time  a  morsel  which  he  had  stolen 
from  a  sconce.  Sharp  followed  his  advice,  and  had  reason  to  be 
thankful  for  the  hint.  Tired  and  sleepy,  I  make  a  bad  night  watcher. 

April  13. — Amused  myself  by  converting  the  Tale  of  the  Mysteri- 
ous Mirror  into  Aunt  Margaret"1  s  Mirror,  designed  for  Heath's  what- 
dye-call-it.  Cadell  will  not  like  this,  but  I  cannot  afford  to  have  my 
goods  thrown  back  upon  my  hands.  The  tale  is  a  good  one,  and  is 
said  actually  to  have  happened  to  Lady  Primrose,  my  great-grand- 
mother having  attended  her  sister  on  the  occasion.  Dined  with 
Miss  Dumergue.  My  proofs  from  Edinburgh  reached  to-day  and 
occupied  me  all  the  morning. 

April  14. — Laboured  at  proofs  and  got  them  sent  off,  per  Mr. 
Freeling's  cover.  So  there's  an  end  of  the  Chronicles.1  James  re- 
joices in  the  conclusion,  where  there  is  battle  and  homicide  of  all 
kinds.  Always  politic  to  keep  a  trot  for  the  avenue,  like  the  Irish 
postilions.  J.  B.  always  calls  to  the  boys  to  flog  before  the  carriage 
gets  out  of  the  inn-yard.  How  we  have  driven  the  stage  I  know  not 
and  care  not — except  with  a  view  to  extricating  my  difficulties.  I 
have  lost  no  time  in  beginning  the  second  series  of  Grandfather's 
Tales,  being  determined  to  write  as  much  as  I  can  even  here,  and  de- 
serve by  industry  the  soft  pillow  I  sleep  on  for  the  moment. 

recently  taken  his  desk  at  the  Foreign  Office,  gate,  Second  Series,  by  the  Author  of  Waverley, 

and  was  living  at  his  sister's  in  Regent's  Park.  etc.,  "  sic  ITUR  AD  ASTRA  "  Motto  of  Canongate 

He  had  thus  looked  forward  to  a  happy  meet-  Arms,  in  three  volumes.     (St.  Valentine's  Cay; 

ing  with  all  his  family — but  he  encountered  or   The   Fair   Maid   of  Perth.)     Edinburgh  : 

scenes  of  sickness  and  distress.—  Life,  vol.  is.  Printed   for   Cadell   and   Co.,  Edinburgh,  aud 

pp.  226-7.  Simpkin  and  Marshall,  London,  1828 ;  (at  the 

>  This  book  was  published  early  in  April  un-  end)  Edinburgh:  Printed  by  Ballautyiie  and 

der  the  following  title:  Chroniclet  of  the  Canon-  Co. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  379 

There  is  a  good  scene  supposed  to  have  happened  between  Sam 
Rogers  and  a  lady  of  fashion — the  reporter,  Lord  Dudley.  Sam  en- 
ters, takes  a  stool,  creeps  close  to  the  lady's  side,  who  asks  his  opinion 
of  the  last  new  poem  or  novel.  In  a  pathetic  voice  the  spectre  re- 
plies— "  My  opinion  ?  I  like  it  very  much — but  the  world  don't  like 
it ;  but,  indeed,  I  begin  to  think  the  world  wrong  in  everything,  ex- 
cept with  regard  to  you.'1''  Now,  Rogers  either  must  have  said  this 
somewhere,  or  he  has  it  yet  to  say.  We  dined  at  Lord  Melville's. 

April  15. — Got  the  lamentable  news  that  Terry  is  totally  bank- 
rupt. This  is  a  most  unexpected  blow,  though  his  carelessness  about 
money  matters  was  very  great.  God  help  the  poor  fellow  !  he  has 
been  ill-advised  to  go  abroad,  but  now  returns  to  stand  the  storm — 
old  debts,  it  seems,  with  principal  and  interest  accumulated,  and  all 
the  items  which  load  a  falling  man.  And  wife  such  a  good  and  kind 
creature,  and  children.  Alack !  alack !  I  sought  out  his  solicitor. 
There  are  £7000  or  more  to  pay,  and  the  only  fund  his  share  in  the 
Adelphi  Theatre,  worth  £5000  and  upwards,  and  then  so  fine  a  chance 
of  independence  lost.  That  comes  of  not  being  explicit  with  his  af- 
fairs. The  theatre  was  a  most  flourishing  concern.  I  looked  at  the 
books,  and  since  have  seen  Yates.  The  ruin  is  inevitable,  but  I  think 
they  will  not  keep  him  in  prison,  but  let  him  earn  his  bread  by  his 
very  considerable  talents.  I  shall  lose  the  whole  or  part  of  £500 
which  I  lent  him,  but  that  is  the  least  of  my  concern.  I  hope  the 
theatre  is  quite  good  for  guaranteeing  certain  payments  in  1829  and 
1830.  I  judge  they  are  in  no  danger. 

I  should  have  gone  to  the  Club  to-day,  but  Sir  James  Mackintosh 
had  mistaken  the  day.  I  was  glad  of  it,  so  stayed  at  home. 

It  is  written  that  nothing  shall  flourish  under  my  shadow — the 
Ballantynes,  Terry,  Nelson,  Weber,  all  came  to  distress.  Nature  lias 
written  on  my  brow,  "  Your  shade  shall  be  broad,  but  there  shall  be 
no  protection  derived  from  it  to  aught  you  favour." 

Sat  and  smoked  and  grumbled  with  Lockhart. 

April  16. — We  dined  at  Dr.  Young's ;  saw  Captain  Parry,  a  hand- 
some and  pleasant  man.  In  the  evening  at  Mr.  Cunliff e's,  where  I  met 
sundry  old  friends — grown  older. 

April  17. — Made  up  my  "  Gurnal,"  which  had  fallen  something 
behind.  In  this  phantasmagoria!  place  the  objects  of  the  day  come 
and  depart  like  shadows.1  Made  calls.  Gave  [C.  K.]  Sharpe's  me- 

1  Among  the  "objects  that  came  and  de-  into  his  own  hand,"  he  gives  an  extract  from 

parted  like  shadows"  in  this  phantasmagoria  Goethe's  letter  containing  a  criticism  on  Aa- 

of  London  life  was  a  deeply  interesting  letter  poleon,  with  the  apology  that  "it  is  seldom 

from  Thomas  Carlyle,  and  but  for  the  fact  that  such  a  writer  obtains  such  a  critic,"  and  in 

it  bears  Sir  Walter's  London  address,  and  the  conclusion  he  adds,  "Being  in  this  curious 

post-mark  of  this  day,  one  could  not  imagine  fashion  appointed,  as  it  were,  ambassador  be- 

he  had  ever  seen  it,  as  it  remained  unacknowl-  tween  two  kings  of  poetry,  I  would  willingly 

edged  and  unnoticed  in  either  Journal  or  Cor-  discharge  my  mission  with  the  solemnity  that 

respondence.  beseems  such  a  business;  and  naturally  it  must 

It  is  dated  13th  April,  1828  ;  and  one  of  the  flatter  my  vanity  and  love  of  the  marvellous  to 

latest  letters  he  indited  from  "21  Comely  Bank,  think  that  by  means  of  a  foreigner  whom  I 

Edinburgh."  After  advising  Scott  that  "Goethe  have  never  seen,  I  might  soon  have  access  to 

has  sent  two  medals  which  he  is  to  deliver  my  native  sovereign,  whom  I  have  so  often 


380  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

morial  to  Lord  Leveson  Gower.  Went  to  Murray's,  where  I  met  a 
Mr.  Jacob,  a  great  economist.  He  is  proposing  a  mode  of  support- 
ing the  poor,  by  compelling  them  to  labour  by  military  force,  and  un- 
der a  species  of  military  discipline.  I  see  no  objection  to  it,  only  it 
will  make  a  rebellion  to  a  certainty ;  and  the  tribes  of  Jacob  will  cer- 
tainly cut  Jacob's  throat.1 

Canning's  conversion  from  popular  opinions  was  strangely  brought 
round.  While  he  was  studying  at  the  Temple,  and  rather  entertain- 
ing revolutionary  opinions,  Godwin  sent  to  say  that  he  was  coming  to 
breakfast  with  him,  to  speak  on  a  subject  of  the  highest  importance. 
Canning  knew  little  of  him,  but  received  his  visit,  and  learned  to  his 
astonishment,  that  in  expectation  of  a  new  order  of  things,  the  Eng- 
lish Jacobins  desired  to  place  him,  Canning,  at  the  head  of  their  ex- 
pected revolution.  He  was  much  struck,  and  asked  time  to  think 
what  course  he  should  take — and,  having  thought  the  matter  over, 
he  went  to  Mr.  Pitt  and  made  the  Anti-Jacobin  confession  of  faith, 

in  which  he  persevered  until .  Canning  himself  mentioned 

this  to  Sir  W.  Knighton,  upon  occasion  of  giving  a  place  in  the 
Charter-house,  of  some  ten  pounds  a  year,  to  Godwin's  brother.  !!•• 
could  scarce  do  less  for  one  who  had  offered  him  the  dictator's  curule 
chair. 

Dined  with  Rogers  with  all  my  own  family,  and  met  Sharp,  Lord 
John  Russell,  Jekyll,  and  others.  The  conversation  flagged  as  usual, 
and  jokes  were  fired  like  minute  guns,  producing  an  effect  not  much 
less  melancholy, — a  wit  should  always  have  an  atmosphere  congenial 
to  him,  otherwise  he  will  not  shine.  Went  to  Lady  Davy's,  where  I 
saw  the  kind  face,  and  heard  the  no  less  friendly  greeting,  of  Lady 
Selkirk,2  who  introduced  all  her  children  to  me. 

April  1 8. — Breakfasted  with  Joanna  Baillie,  and  found  that  gifted 
person  extremely  well,  and  in  the  display  of  all  her  native  knowledge 
of  character  and  benevolence.  She  looks  more  aged,  however.  I 
would  give  as  much  to  have  a  capital  picture  of  her  as  for  any  por- 
trait in  the  world.  She  gave  me  a  manuscript  play  to  read  upon 
Witchcraft.8  Dined  with  the  Dean  of  Chester,  Dr.  Phillpotts.4 

"Where  all  above  us  was  a  solemn  row 
Of  priests  and  deacons,  so  were  all  below."  * 

seen  in  public,  and  so  often  wished  that  I  had  cottagers;  a  scheme  which,  under  the  superiu- 
claim  to  see  and  know  in  private  and  near  at  tendence  of  Lord  Braybrooke  and  other  noble- 
hand.  .  .  .  Meanwhile,  I  abide  your  further  or-  men  and  gentlemen  in  various  districts  of  Eug- 
ders  in  this  matter,  and  so  with  all  the  regard  land,  appears  to  have  been  attended  with  most 
which  belongs  to  one  to  whom  I  in  common  beneficent  results." — Lift.  vol.  ix.  p.  229.  Mr. 
with  other  millions  owe  so  much,  I  have  the  Jacob  died  in  1852  aged  eighty-eight. 
honour  to  be,  sir,  most  respectfully,  your  serv-  a  The  widow  of  his  old  school  -  fellow,  the 
ant.  — T.  C. "  Hon.  Thomas  Douglas,  afterwards  Earl  of  Sel- 

'  William  Jacob,  author  of  Travels  in  Spain  ^irk  —See  Life  vol.  i.  p.  77,  and  208  n. 

in  1810-11,  and  several  works   on   Political  ,     ^         279     Afterwards  iucluded  ln  her 

Economy     Among  others  "some  tracts  con-  p      ^  £,  Dramatic  Works,  Lond.  1851. 
cerning  the  Poor  Colonies  instituted  by  the 

King  of  the  Netherlands,  which  had  marked  in-  4Pr.  Henry  Phillpotts,  consecrated  Bishop 

fluence  in  promoting  the  scheme  of  granting  °^  Exetei 

small  allotments  of  land  on  easy  terms  to  our  6  Crabbe's  Tale  of  the  Dumb  Orators.— j.  O.  L. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  381 

There  were  the  amiable  Bishop  of  London  (Howley1),  Coplestone, 
whom  I  remember  a  first  man  at  Oxford,  now  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  the 
Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  other  dignitaries  of  whom  I  knew  less.  It 
was  a  very  pleasant  day — the  wigs  against  the  wits  for  a  guinea  in 
point  of  conversation.  Anne  looked  queer,  and  much  disposed  to 
laugh  at  finding  herself  placed  betwixt  two  prelates  [in  black  petti- 
coats]. 

April  19. — Breakfasted  with  Sir  George  Philips.  Had  his  re- 
ceipt against  the  blossoms  being  injured  by  frost.  It  consists  in 
watering  them  plentifully  before  sunrise.  This  is  like  the  mode  of 
thawing  beef.  \Ve  had  a  pleasant  morning,  much  the  better  that 
Morritt  was  with  us.  He  has  agreed  to  go  to  Hampton  Court  with 
us  to-morrow. 

Mr.  Reynolds  called  on  me  about  the  drawing  of  the  Laird's 
Jock ;  he  is  assiduous  and  attentive,  but  a  little  forward.  Poor  Gil- 
lies also  called.  Both  asked  me  to  dinner,  but  I  refused.  I  do  not 
incline  to  make  what  is  called  literary  acquaintances;  and  as  for 
poor  G.,  it  is  wild  to  talk  about  his  giving  dinner  to  others,  when  he 
can  hardly  get  credit  for  his  own. 

Dined  with  Sir  Robert  Henry  Inglis,  and  met  Sir  Thomas  Acland, 
my  old  and  kind  friend.  I  was  happy  to  see  him.  He  may  be  consid- 
ered now  as  the  head  of  the  religious  party  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
a  powerful  body  which  Wilberforce  long  commanded.  It  is  a  difficult 
situation ;  for  the  adaptation  of  religious  motives  to  earthly  policy  is 
apt — among  the  infinite  delusions  of  the  human  heart — to  be  a  snare. 
But  I  could  confide  much  in  Sir  T.  Acland's  honour  and  integrity. 
Bishop  Blomfield  [of  Chester],2  one  of  the  most  learned  prelates  of 
the  church,  also  dined. 

Coming  home,  an  Irish  coachman  drove  us  into  a  cul  de  sac,  near 
Battersea  Bridge.  We  were  obliged  to  get  out  in  the  rain.  The 
people  admitted  us  into  their  houses,  where  they  were  having  their 
bit  of  supper,  assisted  with  lights,  etc.,  and,  to  the  honour  of  London, 
neither  asked  nor  expected  gratification. 

April  20. — We  went  to  Walter's  quarters  in  a  body,  and  saw 
Hampton  Court,  with  which  I  was  more  struck  than  when  I  saw  it 
for  the  first  time,  about  1806.  The  pictures  are  not  very  excellent, 
but  they  are  curious,  which  is  as  interesting,  except  to  .connoisseurs. 
Two  1  particularly  remarked,  of  James  i.  and  Charles  i.  eating  in  pub- 
lic. The  old  part  of  the  palace,  built  by  Wolsey,  is  extremely  fine. 
Two  handsome  halls  are  still  preserved :  one,  the  ceiling  of  which  is 
garnished,  at  the  crossing  and  combining  of  the  arches,  with  the  re- 
curring heads  of  Henry  viu.  and  Anne  Boleyn — great  stinginess  in 
Henry,  for  these  ornaments  must  have  been  put  up  after  Wolsey's 
fall.  He  could  surely  afford  a  diversity  of  this  species  of  ornament 


1  Dr.  Howley,  raised  in  1828  to  the  Archbish-          *  Translated  to  the  see  of  London  in  1828, 
opric  of  Canterbury.  — j.  o.  i»  where  he  remained  until  his  death  in  1859. 


382  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

if  any  man  could.  Formerly,  when  the  palace  was  completely  a  fish- 
ing-house, it  extended  into,  or  rather  over,  the  river.  We  had  a  good 
dinner  from  Walter,  and  wended  merrily  home. 

April  21. — Dining  is  the  principal  act  of  the  day  in  London. 
We  took  ours  at  Kensington  with  Croker.  There  were  Theodore 
Hook  and  other  witty  men.  He  looks  unhealthy  and  bloated. 
There  was  something,  I  know  not  what,  awanting  to  the  cheerfulness 
of  the  party.  And 

"Silence  like  a  heavy  cloud, 
O'er  all  the  warriors  hung." 

If  the  general  report  of  Croker's  retiring  be  accurate,  it  may  account 
for  this. 

April  22. — Sophia  left  this  to  take  down  poor  Johnnie  to  Brigh- 
ton. I  fear — I  fear — but  we  must  hope  the  best.  Anne  went  with 
her  sister. 

Lockhart  and  I  dined  with  Sotheby,  where  we  met  a  large  dining 
party,  the  orator  of  which  was  that  extraordinary  man  Coleridge. 
After  eating  a  hearty  dinner,  during  which  he  spoke  not  a  word,  he 
began  a  most  learned  harangue  on  the  Samothracian  Mysteries,  which 
he  considered  as  affording  the  germ  of  all  tales  about  fairies  past, 
present,  and  to  come.  He  then  diverged  to  Homer,  whose  Iliad  he 
considered  as  a  collection  of  poems  by  different  authors,  at  different 
times  during  a  century.  There  was,  he  said,  the  individuality  of  an 
age,  but  not  of  a  country.  Morritt,  a  zealous  worshipper  of  the  old 
bard,  was  incensed  at  a  system  which  would  turn  him  into  a  polythe- 
ist,  gave  battle  with  keenness,  and  was  joined  by  Sotheby,  our  host. 
Mr.  Coleridge  behaved  with  the  utmost  complaisance  and  temper, 
but  relaxed  not  from  his  exertions.  "  Zounds !  I  was  never  so  be- 
thumped  with  words."  Morritt's  impatience  must  have  cost  him  an 
extra  sixpence  worth  of  snuff.1 

We  went  to  Lady  Davy's  in  the  evening,  where  there  was  a 
fashionable  party. 

April  23. — Dined  at  Lady  Davy's  with  Lord  and  Lady  Lans- 

'  Mr.  Lockbart  gives  an  account  of  another  that  he  was  stifled,  flung  his  glass  through  the 
dinner  party  at  which  Coleridge  distinguished  window.  Coleridge  rose  with  the  aspect  of  a 
himself: — "The  first  time  I  ever  witnessed  it  benignant  patriarch  and  demolished  another 
[Hook's  improvisation]  was  at  a  gay  young  pane — the  example  was  followed  generally — 
bachelor's  villa  near  Highgate,  when  the  other  the  window  was  a  sieve  in  an  instant  — the 
lion  was  one  of  a  very  different  breed.  Mr.  Coler-  kind  host  was  furthest  from  the  mark,  and  his 
idge.  Much  claret  had  been  shed  before  the  goblet  made  havoc  of  the  chandelier.  The 
Ancient  Mariner  proclaimed  that  he  could  swal-  roar  of  laughter  was  drowned  in  Theodore's 
low  no  more  of  anything,  unless  it  were  punch.  resumption  of  the  song  —  and  window  and 
The  materials  were  forthwith  produced;  the  chandelier  and  the  peculiar  shot  of  each  indi- 
bowl  was  planted  before  the  poet,  and  as  he  pro-  vidual  destroyer  had  apt.  in  many  cases  ex- 
ceeded in  his  concoction,  Hook,  unbidden,  took  quisitely  witty,  commemoration.  In  walking 

bis  place  at  the  piano.    He  burst  into  a  bac-  home  with  Mr.  Coleridge,  be  entertained  

chanal  of  egregious  luxury,  every  line  of  which  and  me  with  a  most  excellent  lecture  on  the 
had  reference  to  the  author  of  the  Lay  Ser-  distinction  between  talent  and  genius,  and  de- 
mons and  the  Aids  to  Reflection.  The  room  clared  that  Hook  was  as  true  a  genius  as  Dante 
was  becoming  excessively  hot :  the  first  speci-  — that  was  his  example. "  —  Theodore  Hook, 
men  of  the  new  compound  was  handed  to  Hook,  Lond.  1853,  p.  23-4. 
who  paused  to  quaff  it,  and  then,  exclaiming 


1828.]  JOURNAL  383 

downc,  and  several  other  fashionable  folks.  My  keys  were  sent  to 
Bramah's  with  my  desk,  so  I  have  not  had  the  means  of  putting  mat- 
ters down  regularly  for  several  days ;  but  who  cares  for  the  whipp'd 
cream  of  London  society  ?  Our  poor  little  Johnnie  is  extremely  ill. 
My  fears  have  been  uniform  for  this  engaging  child.  We  are  in 
God's  hands.  But  the  comfortable  and  happy  object  of  my  journey 
is  ended, — Seged,  Emperor  of  Ethiopia,1  was  right  after  all. 

April  24. — Spent  the  day  in  rectifying  a  road  bill  which  drew 
a  turnpike  road  through  all  the  Darnickers'  cottages,  and  a  good 
field  of  my  own.  I  got  it  put  to  rights.  I  was  in  some  apprehen- 
sion of  being  obliged  to  address  the  Committee.  I  did  not  fear  them, 
for  I  suppose  they  are  no  wiser  or  better  in  their  capacity  of  legisla- 
tors than  I  find  them  every  day  at  dinner.  But  I  feared  for  my  repu- 
tation. They  would  have  expected  something  better  than  the  occa- 
sion demanded,  or  the  individual  could  produce,  and  there  would  have 
been  a  failure. 

April  25. — Threatened  to  be  carried  down  to  vote  at  the  election 
of  a  Collector  of  the  Cess."  Resolved  if  I  did  go  to  carry  my  son 
with  me,  which  would  give  me  a  double  vote.  Had  some  disagreea- 
ble correspondence  about  this  with  Lord  Minto  and  the  Sheriff. 

We  had  one  or  two  persons  at  home  in  great  wretchedness  to 
dinner.  Lockhart's  looks  showed  the  misery  he  felt.  I  was  not  able 
to  make  any  fight,  and  the  evening  went  off  as  heavily  as  any  I  ever 
spent  in  the  course  of  my  life. 

Finished  my  Turnpike  business  by  getting  the  exceptionable 
clauses  omitted,  which  would  be  good  news  to  Darnick.  Put  all  the 
Mirror  in  proof  and  corrected  it.  This  is  the  contribution  (part  of 
it)  to  Mr.  Reynolds'  and  Heath's  Keepsake.  We  dined  at  Richard- 
son's with  the  two  chief  Barons  of  England3  and  Scotland.4  Odd 
enough,  the  one  being  a  Scotsman  and  the  other  an  Englishman. 
Far  the  pleasantest  day  we  have  had ;  I  suppose  I  am  partial,  but  I 
think  the  lawyers  beat  the  bishops,  and  the  bishops  beat  the  wits. 

April  26 — This  morning  I  went  to  meet  a  remarkable  man,  Mr. 
Boyd  of  the  house  of  Boyd,  Benfield  &  Co.,  which  broke  for  a  very 
large  sum  at  the  beginning  of  the  war.  Benfield  went  to  the  devil, 
I  believe.  Boyd,  a  man  of  a  very  different  stamp,  went  over  to  Paris 
to  look  after  some  large  claims  which  his  house  had  over  the  French 
Government.  They  were  such  as  it  seems  they  could  not  disavow, 
however  they  might  be  disposed  to  do  so.  But  they  used  every  ef- 
fort, by  foul  means  and  fair,  to  induce  Mr.  Boyd  to  depart.  He  was 
reduced  to  poverty ;  he  was  thrown  into  prison  ;  and  the  most  flat- 
tering prospects  were,  on  the  other  hand,  held  out  to  him  if  he  would 
compromise  his  claims.  His  answer  was  uniform.  It  was,  the  prop- 

>  Johnson's  Rambler.  Baron  1824  ;  died  in  London  in  his  eighty- 

1  The  County  Land  Tax.  eighth  year,  1842. 
3  The  Right  Hon.  Sir  W.  Alexander  of  Air- 

drie,  .called  to  the  English  Bar  1782,  Chief  *  Sir  Samuel  Shepherd. 


384  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

erty,  he  said,  of  his  creditors,  and  he  would  die  ere  he  resigned  it. 
His  distresses  were  so  great  that  a  subscription  was  made  among  his 
Scottish  friends,  to  which  I  was  a  contributor,  through  the  request 
of  poor  Will  Erskine.  After  the  peace  of  Paris  the  money  was  re- 
stored, and,  faithful  to  the  last,  Boyd  laid  the  whole  at  his  creditors' 
disposal ;  stating,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  was  penniless  unless  they 
consented  to  allow  him  a  moderate  sum  in  name  of  percentage,  in 
consideration  of  twenty  years  of  danger,  poverty,  and  [exile],  all  of 
which  evils  he  might  have  escaped  by  surrendering  their  right  to  the 
money.  Will  it  be  believed  that  a  muck-worm  was  base  enough  to 
refuse  his  consent  to  this  deduction,  alleging  he  had  promised  to  his 
father,  on  his  death-bed,  never  to  compromise  this  debt.  The  wretch, 
however,  was  overpowered  by  the  execrations  of  all  around  him,  and 
concurred,  with  others,  in  setting  apart  for  Mr.  Boyd  a  sum  of  £40,000 
or  £50,000  out  of  half  a  million  of  money.1  This  is  a  man  to  whom 
statues  should  be  erected,  and  pilgrims  should  go  to  see  him.  He  is 
good-looking,  but  old  and  infirm.  Bright  dark  eyes  and  eyebrows 
contrast  with  his  snowy  hair,  and  all  his  features  mark  vigour  of 
principle  and  resolution.  Mr.  Morritt  dined  with  us,  and  we  did  as 
well  as  in  the  circumstances  could  be  expected. 

Released  from  the  alarm  of  being  summoned  down  to  the  election 
by  a  civil  letter  from  Lord  Minto.  I  am  glad  both  of  the  relief  and 
of  the  manner.  I  hate  civil  war  amongst  neighbours. 

April  27. — Breakfasted  this  day  with  Charles  Dumergue  on  a  pou- 
let  a  la  tartare,  and  saw  all  his  family,  specially  my  godson.  Called 
on  Lady  Stafford  and  others,  and  dined  at  Croker's  in  the  Admiralty, 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  Huskisson,  Wilmot  Horton,  and  others, 
outs  and  ins.  No  politics  of  course,  and  every  man  disguising  serious 
thoughts  with  a  light  brow.  The  Duke  alone  seemed  open,  though  not 
letting  out  a  word.  He  is  one  of  the  few  whose  lips  are  worth  watch- 
ing. I  heard  him  say  to-day  that  the  best  troops  would  run  now  and 
then.  He  thought  nothing  of  men  running,  he  said,  provided  they 
came  back  again.  In  war  he  had  always  his  reserves.  Poor  Terry 
was  here  when  I  returned.  He  seems  to  see  his  matters  in  a  delusive 
light. 

April  28. — An  attack  this  day  or  yesterday  from  poor  Gillies,  bor- 
ing me  hard  to  apply  to  Menzies  of  Pitf  oddels  to  entreat  him  to  lend 
him  money.  I  could  not  get  him  to  understand  that  I  was  decided- 
ly averse  to  write  to  another  gentleman,  with  whom  I  was  hardly  ac- 
quainted, to  do  that  which  I  would  not  do  myself.  Tom  Campbell2 
is  in  miserable  distress — his  son  insane — his  wife  on  the  point  of  be- 
coming so.  /  nunc,  et  -versus  tecum  meditare  canoros.* 

We,  i.e.  Charles  and  I,  dined  at  Sir  Francis  Freeling's  with  Colo- 

1  Walter  Boyd  at  this  time  was  M.P.  for  s  Campbell  died  at  Boulogne  in  1844,  aged 

Lymington;   he  had  been  a  banker  in  Paris  sixty-seven;  he  was  buried  in  Westminster, 

and  in  London;  was  the  author  of  several  well-  next  Southey. 

known  tracts  on  finance,  and  died  in  1837.  3  Hor.  Epp.  ii.  2,  76. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  385 

nel  Harrison  of  the  Board  of  Green  Cloth,  Dr.  [Maltby]  of  Lincoln's 
Inn,  and  other  pleasant  people.  Doctor  Dibdin  too,  and  Utterson, 
all  old  Roxburghe  men.  Pleasant  party,  were  it  not  for  a  bad  cold, 
which  makes  me  bark  like  a  dog. 

April  29. — Anne  and  Lockhart  are  off  with  the  children  this  morn- 
ing at  seven,  and  Charles  and  I  left  behind ;  and  this  is  the  promised 
meeting  of  my  household  !  I  went  to  Dr.  Gilly's  to-day  to  breakfast. 
Met  Sir  Thomas  Acland,  who  is  the  youngest  man  of  his  age  I  ever 
saw.  I  was  so  much  annoyed  with  cough,  that,  on  returning,  I  took 
to  my  bed  and  had  a  siesta,  to  my  considerable  refreshment.  Dr. 
Fergusson  called,  and  advised  caution  in  eating  and  drinking,  which 
I  will  attend  to. 

Dined  accordingly.  Duke  of  Sussex  had  cold  and  did  not  come. 
A  Mr.  or  Dr.  Pettigrew  made  me  speeches  on  his  account,  and  invited 
me  to  see  his  Royal  Highness's  library,  which  I  am  told  is  a  fine  one. 
Sir  Peter  Laurie,  late  Sheriff,  and  in  nomination  to  be  Lord  Mayor, 
bored  me  close,  and  asked  more  questions  than  would  have  been 
thought  warrantable  at  the  west  end  of  the  town. 

April  30. — We  had  Mr.  Adolphus  and  his  father,  the  celebrated 
lawyer,  to  breakfast,  and  I  was  greatly  delighted  with  the  informa- 
tion of  the  latter.  A  barrister  of  extended  practice,  if  he  has  any 
talents  at  all,  is  the  best  companion  in  the  world.1 

Dined  with  Lord  Alvanley  and  a  fashionable  party,  Lord  Fitzroy 
Somerset,  Marquis  and  Marchioness  of  Worcester,  etc.  Lord  Alvan- 
ley's  wit  made  the  party  very  pleasant,  as  well  as  the  kind  reception 
of  my  friends  the  Misses  Arden. 

i  The  elder  Mr.  Adolphus  distinguished  himself  early  in  life  by  his  History  of  the  Reign  of 
George  III.  — j.  G.  L. 

25 


MAY 

May  1. — Breakfasted  with  Lord  and  Lady  Leveson  Gower,1  and 
enjoyed  the  splendid  treat  of  hearing  Mrs.  Arkwright  sing  her  own 
music,2  which  is  of  the  highest  order  —  no  forced  vagaries  of  the 
voice,  no  caprices  of  tone,  but  all  telling  upon  and  increasing  the  feel- 
ing the  words  require.  This  is  "  marrying  music  to  immortal  verse."  ! 
Most  people  place  them  on  separate  maintenance. 

I  met  the  Roxburghe  Club,  and  settled  to  dine  with  them  on 
15th  curt.  Lord  Spencer  in  the  chair.  We  voted  Lord  Clive*  a 
member. 

May  2. — I  breakfasted  with  a  Mr.  Bell,  Great  Ormond  Street,  a 
lawyer,  and  narrowly  escaped  Mr.  Irving,  the  celebrated  preacher. 
The  two  ladies  of  the  house  seemed  devoted  to  his  opinions,  and 
quoted  him  at  every  word.  Mr.  Bell  himself  made  some  apologies 
for  the  Millennium.  He  is  a  smart  little  antiquary,  who  thinks  he 
ought  to  have  been  a  man  of  letters,  and  that  his  genius  has  been 
mis-directed  in  turning  towards  the  law.  I  endeavoured  to  combat 
this  idea,  which  his  handsome  house  and  fine  family  should  have 
checked.  Compare  his  dwelling,  his  comforts,  with  poor  Tom  Camp- 
bell's ! 

I  dined  with  the  Literary  Society ;  rather  heavy  work,  though 
some  excellent  men  were  there.  I  saw,  for  the  first  time,  Archdeacon 
Nares,  long  conductor  of  the  British  Critic,  a  gentlemanlike  and  pleas- 
ing man.  Sir  Henry  Robert  Inglis  presided. 

May  3. — Breakfasted  at  my  old  friend  Gaily  Knight's,  with  whom, 
in  former  days,  I  used  to  make  little  parties  to  see  poor  Monk  Lewis. 
After  breakfast  I  drove  to  Lee  and  Kennedy's,  and  commissioned 
seeds  and  flowers  for  about  £10,  including  some  specimens  of  the 
Corsican  and  other  pines.  Their  collection  is  very  splendid,  but 
wants,  I  think,  the  neatness  that  I  would  have  expected  in  the  first 
nursery-garden  in  or  near  London.  The  essentials  were  admirably 
cared  for.  I  saw  one  specimen  of  the  Norfolk  Island  pine,  the  only 

1  See  ante,  p.  9.  Lady  Francis  Leveson  the  lady,  and  whispered,  as  she  closed,  '  Capi- 

Gower  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  Charles  Grev-  tal  words— whose  are  they?  Byron's,  I  sup- 

ille.  pose,  but  I  don't  remember  them.'  He  was 

*  Mr.  Lockbart  writes  :  —  "  Among  other  astonished  when  I  told  him  they  were  his  own 

gongs  Mrs.  Arkwright  delighted  Sir  Walter  in  The  Pirate.  He  seemed  pleased  at  the  mo- 

with  her  own  set  of —  ment,  but  said  next  minute,  '  You  have  dis- 

•  Farewell !  farewell !  the  voice  you  hear  tressed  me-if,  memory  gOCS,  all  is  up  with  me, 

Ha«  left  it«  Ust  soft  tone  with  you;  for  that  was  always  my  strong  point.'  "—Life, 

IU  next  mmt  join  the  seaward  cheer,  vol.  IX.  p.  236. 

And  ihont  among  the  .houting  crew,'  etc.  3  Milton's  V Allegro,  ver.  137,  294. 

He  was  sitting  by  mo,  at  some  distance  from         «  Afterwards  second  Earl  Powis. 


MAY,  1828.]  JOURNAL  387 

one,  young  Lee  said,  which  has  been  raised  from  all  the  seed  that 
was  sent  home.  It  is  not  treated  comformably  to  its  dignity,  for  they 
cut  the  top  off  every  year  to  prevent  its  growing  out  at  the  top  of 
the  conservatory.  Sure  it  were  worth  while  to  raise  the  house 
alongst  with  the  plant. 

Looked  in  at  Murray's — wrote  some  letters,  etc.,  and  walked  home 
with  the  Dean  of  Chester,  who  saw  me  to  my  own  door.  I  had  but 
a  few  minutes  to  dress,  and  go  to  the  Royal  Academy,  to  which  I  am 
attached  in  capacity  of  Professor  of  Antiquities.  I  was  too  late  to 
see  the  paintings,  but  in  perfect  time  to  sit  half-an-hour  waiting  for 
dinner,  as  the  President,  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  expected  a  prince  of 
the  blood.  He  came  not,  but  there  were  enough  of  grandees  be- 
sides. Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  did  the  honours  very  well,  and  com- 
pliments flew  about  like  sugar-plums  at  an  Italian  carnival.  I  had 
my  share,  and  pleaded  the  immunities  of  a  sinecurist  for  declining 
to  answer. 

After  the  dinner  I  went  to  Mrs.  Scott  of  Harden,  to  see  and  be 
seen  by  her  nieces,  the  Herbert  ladies.  I  don't  know  how  their  part 
of  the  entertainment  turned  out,  but  I  saw  two  or  three  pretty  girls. 

May  4. — I  breakfasted  this  morning  with  Sir  Coutts  Trotter,  and 
had  some  Scottish  talk.  Visited  Cooper,  who  kindly  undertook  to 
make  my  inquiries  in  Lyons.1  I  was  at  home  afterwards  for  three 
hours,  but  too  much  tired  to  do  the  least  right  thing.  The  distances 
in  London  are  so  great  that  no  exertions,  excepting  those  which  a  bird 
might  make,  can  contend  with  them.  You  return  weary  and  exhaust- 
ed, fitter  for  a  siesta  than  anything  else.  In  the  evening  I  dined  with 
Mr.  Peel,  a  great  Cabinet  affair,  and  too  dignified  to  be  very  amusing, 
though  the  landlord  and  the  pretty  landlady  did  all  to  make  us  easy. 

May  5. — Breakfasted  with  Haydon,  and  sat  for  my  head.  I  hope 
this  artist  is  on  his  legs  again.  The  King  has  given  him  a  lift  by 
buying  his  clever  picture  of  the  election  in  the  Fleet  prison,  to  which 
he  is  adding  a  second  part,  representing  the  chairing  of  the  member 
at  the  moment  it  was  interrupted  by  the  entry  of  the  guards.  Hay- 
don was  once  a  great  admirer  and  companion  of  the  champions  of 
the  Cockney  school,  and  is  now  disposed  to  renounce  them  and  their 
opinions.  To  this  kind  of  conversation  I  did  not  give  much  way.  A 
painter  should  have  nothing  to  do  with  politics.  He  is  certainly  a 
clever  fellow,  but  somewhat  too  enthusiastic,  which  distress  seems  to 
have  cured  in  some  degree.  His  wife,  a  pretty  woman,  looked  happy 
to  see  me,  and  that  is  something.  Yet  it  was  very  little  I  could  do  to 
help  them.5 

Dined  at  Lord  Bathurst's,  in  company  with  the  Duke.  There  are 
better  accounts  of  Johnnie.  But,  alas  ! 

1  Regarding  the  Chancery  business,  see  in-      don.     The  imprisonment  from  which  the  sub- 
fra,  p.  399  n.  scription  released  the  artist  produced,  I  need 

scarcely  say,  the  picture  mentioned  in  the  Di- 

2  Sir  AValter  had  shortly  before  been  one  of       ary. — i.  G.  L.    Haydon  died  in  June,  1846.    See 
the  contributors  to  a  subscription  for  Mr.  Hay-      his  Life,  3  vols.,  1853,  edited  by  Tom  Taylor. 


388  JOURNAL  [MAY 

May  7. — Breakfasted  with  Lord  Francis  Gower,  and  again  enjoyed 
the  great  pleasure  of  meeting  Mrs.  Arkwright,  and  hearing  her  sing. 
She  is,  I  understand,  quite  a  heaven-born  genius,  having  scarce  skill 
enough  in  music  to  write  down  the  tunes  she  composes.  I  can  easily 
believe  this.  There  is  a  pedantry  among  great  musicians  that  de- 
prives their  performances  of  much  that  is  graceful  and  beautiful.  It 
is  the  same  in  the  other  fine  arts,  where  fashion  always  prefers  cant 
and  slang  to  nature  and  simplicity. 

Dined  at  Mr.  Watson  Taylor's,  where  plate,  etc.,  shone  in  great 
and  somewhat  ostentatious  quantity.  C[roker]  was  there,  and  very 
decisive  and  overbearing  to  a  great  degree.  Strange  so  clever  a  fel- 
low should  let  his  wit  outrun  his  judgment ! '  In  general,  the  Eng- 
lish understand  conversation  well.  There  is  that  ready  deference  for 
the  claims  of  every  one  who  wishes  to  speak  time  about,  and  it  is 
seldom  now-a-days  that  "a  la  stoccata  "  carries  it  away  thus.2 

I  should  have  gone  to  the  Duchess  of  Northumberland's  to  hear 
music  to-night,  but  I  felt  completely  fagged,  and  betook  myself  home 
to  bed. 

I  learned  a  curious  thing  from  Emily,  Lady  Londonderry,  namely, 
that  in  feeding  all  animals  with  your  hand,  you  should  never  wear  a 
glove,  which  always  affronts  them.  It  is  good  authority  for  this  pe- 
culiarity. 

May  8. — Breakfasted  at  Somerset  House  with  Davics  Gilbert,  the 
new  preses  of  the  Royal  Society.  Tea,  coffee,  and  bread  and  butter, 
which  is  poor  work.  Certainly  a  slice  of  ham,  a  plate  of  shrimps, 
some  broiled  fish,  or  a  mutton  chop,  would  have  been  becoming  so 
learned  a  body.  I  was  most  kindly  received,  however,  by  Dr.  D.  Gil- 
bert, and  a  number  of  the  members.  I  saw  Sir  John  Sicvwright — a 
singular  personage;  he  told  me  his  uniform  plan  was  to  support  Min- 
isters, but  he  always  found  himself  voting  in  Opposition.  I  told  him 
his  deference  to  Ministers  was  like  that  of  the  Frenchman  to  the  ene- 
my, who,  being  at  his  mercy,  asked  for  his  life : — "Anything  in  my 
power  excepting  that,  sir,"  said  Monsieur.  Sir  John  has  made  prog- 
ress in  teaching  animals  without  severity  or  beating.  I  should  have 
liked  to  have  heard  him  on  this  topic. 

Called  at  Northumberland  House  and  saw  the  Duke.  According 
to  his  report  I  lost  much  by  not  hearing  the  two  rival  nightingales, 
Sontag  and  Pasta,  last  night,  but  I  care  not  for  it. 

Met  Sir  W.  K[nighton],  returned  from  the  Continent.  He  gives 
me  to  understand  I  will  be  commanded  for  Sunday.  Sir  W.  K.  asked 
me  to  sit  for  him  to  Northcote,  and  to  meet  him  there  at  one  to-mor- 
row. I  cannot  refuse  this,  but  it  is  a  great  bore.* 

1  The  Duke  of  Wellington,  in  after  years,  said  3  Sir  W.  Knighton,  as  a  Devonshire  man, 
to  Lord  Mahon,  "He  had  observed  on  several  naturally  wished  to  have  the  portrait  painted 
occasions  that  Sir  Walter  was  talked  down  by  by  Northcote,  who  was  a  brother  Devonian. 
Croker  and  Bankes!  who  forgot  that  we  might  Cunningham  said  of  this  picture  that  the  con- 
have  them  every  day." — Notes,  p.  100.  ception  was  good,  and  reality  given  by  the  in- 

3  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  in.  Sc.  1.  troduction  of  the  painter,  palette  in  hand,  put- 


1828.]  JOURNAL  389 

Dined  with  Mrs.  Alexander  of  Ballochmyle,  Lord  and  Lady  Meath, 
who  were  kind  to  us  in  Ireland,  and  a  Scottish  party, — pleasant,  from 
hearing  the  broad  accents  and  honest  thoughts  of  my  native  land.  A 
large  party  in  the  evening.  A  gentleman  came  up  to  me  and  asked 
"  if  I  had  seen  the  '  Casket,'  a  curious  work,  the  most  beautiful,  the 
most  highly  ornamented — and  then  the  editor  or  editress — a  female 
so  interesting, — might  he  ask  a  very  great  favour,"  and  out  he  pulled 
a  piece  of  this  pic-nic.  I  was  really  angry,  and  said  for  a  subscrip- 
tion he  might  command  me — for  a  contribution  no ;  that  I  had  given 
to  a  great  many  of  these  things  last  year,  and  finding  the  labour  oc- 
cupied some  considerable  portion  of  my  time,  I  had  done  a  consider- 
able article  for  a  single  collection  this  year,  taking  a  valuable  consid- 
eration for  it,  and  engaged  not  to  support  any  other.  This  may  be 
misrepresented,  but  I  care  not.  Suppose  this  patron  of  the  Muses 
gives  five  guineas  to  his  distressed  lady,  he  will  think  he  does  a  great 
deal,  yet  takes  fifty  from  me  with  the  calmest  air  in  the  world,  for  the 
communication  is  worth  that  if  it  be  worth  anything.  There  is  no 
equality  in  the  proposal. 

t  saw  to-day  at  Northumberland  House,  Bridge  the  jeweller,  hav- 
ing and  holding  a  George,  richly  ornamented  with  diamonds,  being 
that  which  Queen  Anne  gave  to  the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  which  his 
present  representative  pawned  or  sold,  and  which  the  present  king 
bought  and  presented  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  His  Grace 
seemed  to  think  this  interesting  jewel  was  one  of  two  which  had 
been  preserved  since  the  first  institution  of  that  order.  That, 
from  the  form  and  taste,  I  greatly  doubt.  Mr.  Bridge  put  it  again 
into  his  coat  pocket,  and  walked  through  the  street  with  £10,000  in 
his  pocket.  I  wonder  he  is  not  hustled  arid  robbed.  I  have  some- 
times envied  rich  citizens,  but  it  was  a  mean  and  erroneous  feeling. 
This  man,  who,  I  suppose,  must  be  as  rich  as  a  Jew,  had  a  shabby  look 
in  the  Duke's  presence,  and  seemed  just  a  better  sort  of  pedlar.  Bet- 
ter be  a  poor  gentleman  after  all. 

May  9. — Grounds  of  Foote's  farce  of  the  Cozeners.  Lady . 

A  certain  Mrs.  Phipps  audaciously  set  up  in  a  fashionable  quarter  of 
the  town  as  a  person  through  whose  influence,  properly  propitiated, 
favours  and  situations  of  importance  might  certainly  be  obtained — 
always  for  a  consideration.  She  cheated  many  people,  and  main- 
tained the  trick  for  many  months.  One  trick  was  to  get  the  equipage 
of  Lord  North,  and  other  persons  of  importance,  to  halt  before  her 
door  as  if  the  owners  were  within.  With  respect  to  most  of  them,  this 
was  effected  by  bribing  the  drivers.  But  a  gentleman,  who  watched 
her  closely,  observed  that  Charles  J.  Fox  actually  left  his  carriage  and 
went  into  the  house,  and  this  more  than  once.  He  was  then,  it  must 

ting  the  finishing  touch  to  the  head  of  the  from  Allan  Cunningham,  considered  that  the 

poet.     "The  likenesses  were  considered  good."  picture  presented  "anything  but  a  fortunate 

—Cunningham's  Lives,  vol.  vi.  p.  124.     It  \v;is  likeness."     Northcote  died  July  13th,  1331,  in 

exhibited  in  1871  in  Edinburgh;  its  size  is  4  ft.  his  eighty-flfth  year. 
2  in.  x  3  ft.  2  in,     .Mr.  David  Laiug,  differing 


390  JOURNAL  [MAY 

be  noticed,  in  the  Ministry.  When  Mrs.  Phipps  was  blown  up,  this 
circumstance  was  recollected  as  deserving  explanation,  which  Fox 
readily  gave  at  Brooks's  and  elsewhere.  It  seems  Mrs.  Phipps  had 
the  art  to  pursuade  him  that  she  had  the  disposal  of  what  was  then 
called  a  hyaena — that  is,  an  heiress — an  immense  Jamaica  heiress,  in 
whom  she  was  willing  to  give  or  sell  her  interest  to  Charles  Fox. 
Without  having  perfect  confidence  in  the  obliging  proposal,  the  great 
statesman  thought  the  thing  worth  looking  after,  and  became  so  ear- 
nest in  it,  that  Mrs.  Phipps  was  desirous  to  back  out  of  it  for  fear  of 
discovery.  With  this  view  she  made  confession  one  fine  morning, 
with  many  professions  of  the  deepest  feelings,  that  the  hyaena  had 
proved  a  frail  monster,  and  given  birth  to  a  girl  or  boy — no  matter 
which.  Even  this  did  not  make  Charles  quit  chase  of  the  hyaena.  He 
intimated  that  if  the  cash  was  plenty  and  certain,  the  circumstance 
might  be  overlooked.  Mrs.'Phipps  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  double 
the  disgusting  dose.  "  The  poor  child,"  she  said,  "  was  unfortunately 
of  a  mixed  colour,  somewhat  tinged  with  the  blood  of  Africa ;  no 
doubt  Mr.  Fox  was  himself  very  dark,  and  the  circumstance  might  not 
draw  attention,"  etc.,  etc.  This  singular  anecdote  was  touched  upon 
by  Foote,  and  is  the  cause  of  introducing  the  negress  into  the  Cozen- 
ers,1 though  no  express  allusion  to  Charles  Fox  was  admitted.  Lady 

tells  me  that,  in  her  youth,  the  laugh  was  universal  so  soon  as 

the  black  woman  appeared.  It  is  one  of  the  numerous  hits  that  will 
be  lost  to  posterity.  Jack  Fuller,  celebrated  for  his  attempt  on  the 
Speaker's  wig,  told  me  he  was  editing  Foote,  but  I  think  he  has 
hardly  taste  enough.  He  told  me  Colman  was  to  be  his  assistant.2 

Went  down  in  the  morning  to  Montagu  House,  where  I  found  the 
Duke  going  out  to  suffer  a  recovery.3  I  had  some  fancy  to  see  the 
ceremony,  but  more  to  get  my  breakfast,  Avhich  I  took  at  a  coffee- 
house at  Charing  Cross. 

I  sat  to  Northcote,  who  is  to  introduce  himself  in  the  same  piece 
in  the  act  ofpainting  me,  like  some  pictures  of  the  Venetian  school. 
The  artist  is  an  old  man,  low  in  stature,  and  bent  with  years — four- 
score at  least.  But  the  eye  is  quick  and  the  countenance  noble.  A 
pleasant  companion,  familiar  with  recollections  of  Sir  Joshua,  Samuel 
Johnson,  Burke,  Goldsmith,  etc.  His  account  of  the  last  confirms  all 
that  we  have  heard  of  his  oddities. 

Dined  with  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  where  met  Duke  of  Rutland,  Lord  and 
Lady  Londonderry,  etc.,  etc.  Went  to  hear  Mrs.  Arkwright  at  Lady 
Charlotte  Greville's.  Lockhart  came  home  to-day. 

May  10. — Another  long  sitting  to  the  old  Wizard  Northcote.  He 
really  resembles  an  animated  mummy.4  He  has  altered  my  ideas  of 

1  Act  HI.  Sc.  2.  year,  in  1834,  without  apparently  having  car- 

8  John  Fuller,  long  M.  P.  for  Surrey,  an  ec-  ried  out  his  intention  of  editing  Foote. 

centric  character,  and  looked  upon  as  standing  3  A  process  in  English  copyhold  law. 

jester  to  the  House  of  Commons.     Scott  Urst  «  Hazlitt  said  of  Northcote.  that  talking  with 

met  him  in  Chantrey's  studio  in  1820. — See  him  was  like  conversing  with  the  dead:  "You 

Life,  vol.  vi.  pp.  206,  207.     He  4ied  in  his  77tb  see  a  little  old  man,  pale  and  fragile,  with  eyes 


1828.]  JOURNAL  391 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  whom,  from  the  expressions  used  by  Goldsmith, 
Johnson,  and  others,  I  used  to  think  an  amiable  and  benevolent  char- 
acter. But  though  not  void  of  generosity,  he  was  cold,  unfeeling,  and 
indifferent  to  his  family ;  so  much  so  that  his  sister,  Miss  Reynolds, 
after  expressing  her  wonder  at  the  general  acceptance  which  Sir 
Joshua  met  with  in  society,  concluded  with,  "For  me,  I  only  see  in 
him  a  dark  gloomy  tyrant."  I  own  this  view  of  his  character  hurt 
me,  by  depriving  me  of  the  pleasing  vision  of  the  highest  talents 
united  with  the  kindest  temper.  But  Northcote  says  his  disagreeable 
points  were  rather  negative  than  positive — more  a  want  of  feeling 
than  any  desire  to  hurt  or  tyrannise.  They  arose  from  his  exclusive 
attachment  to  art. 

Dined  with  a  pleasant  party  at  Lord  Gower's.  Lady  Gower  is  a 
beautiful  woman,  and  extremely  courteous.  Mrs.  Arkwright  was  of 
the  party.  I  am  getting  well  acquainted  with  her,  and  think  I  can 
see  a  great  deal  of  sense  mixed  with  her  accomplishment. 

May  11. — Breakfasted  with  Dr.  Maltby,  preacher  in  Lincoln's  Inn. 
He  was  to  have  been  the  next  Bishop,  if  the  Whigs  had  held  their 
ground.  His  person,  manners,  and  attainments  would  have  suited  the 
lawn  sleeves  well.  I  heard  service  in  the  chapel,  which  is  a  very 
handsome  place  of  worship ;  it  is  upstairs,  which  seems  extraordinary, 
and  the  space  beneath  forms  cloisters,  in  which  the  ancient  Benchers 
of  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn  are  entered.  I  met  my  old  friend  Sir 
William  Grant,1  and  had  some  conversation  with  him.  Dr.  Maltby 
gave  us  a  good  sermon  upon  the  introduction  of  the  Gospel.  There 
was  only  one  monument  in  the  chapel,  a  handsome  tablet  to  the 
memory  of  Perceval.  The  circumstance  that  it  was  the  only  monu- 
ment in  the  chapel  of  a  society  which  had  produced  so  many  men  of 
talents  and  distinction  was  striking — it  was  a  tribute  due  to  the  sud- 
denness of  his  strange  catastrophe.  There  is  nothing  very  particular 
in  the  hall  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  nor  its  parlour,  which  are  like  those  of  a 
college.  Indeed  the  whole  establishment  has  a  monastic  look. 

Sat  to  Northcote,  who  only  requires  (Deo  gratias)  another  sitting. 
Dined  with  his  Majesty  in  a  very  private  party — five  or  six  only  be- 
ing present.  I  was  received  most  kindly  as  usual.  It  is  impossible 
to  conceive  a  more  friendly  manner  than  his  Majesty  used  towards 
me.  I  spoke  to  S.  W.  K.  about  the  dedication  of  the  collected  works, 
and  he  says  it  will  be  highly  well  taken.2 

I  went  after  the  party  broke  up  to  Mrs.  Scott  of  Harden,  where  I 
made  acquaintance  with  her  beautiful  kinswoman,  Lady  Sarah  Pon- 
sonby,  whose  countenance  is  really  seraphic  and  totally  devoid  of  af- 
fectation. 

gleaming  like  the  lights  hung  in  tombs.     He  1  Born  1752,  died  1832;  Master  of  the  Rolls 

seems  little  better  than  a  ghost,  and  haugs  from  1801  to  1817. 

wavering  and  trembling  on  the  very  verge  of 

life;  you  would  think  a  breath  would  blow  him 

away,  and  yet  what  fine  things  he  says!" —  2  The  Magnum  Opus  was  dedicated  to  George 

Conversations.  iv. — j.  a.  L. 


392  JOURNAL  [MAY 

May  12. — Old  George  n.  was,  as  is  well  known,  extremely  pas- 
sionate. On  these  occasions  his  small  stock  of  English  totally  failed 
him,  and  he  used  to  express  his  indignation  in  the  following  form : 
"  G —  d — n  me,  who  I  am  ?  Got  d — n  you,  who  you  be  ?"  Lock- 
hart  and  I  visited  a  Mrs.  Quillinan,1  with  whom  Wordsworth  and  his 
wife  have  pitched  their  tent.  I  was  glad  to  see  my  old  friend,  whose 
conversation  has  so  much  that  is  fresh  and  manly  in  it.  I  do  not  at 
all  acquiesce  in  his  system  of  poetry,  and  I  think  lie  has  injured  his 
own  fame  by  adhering  to  it.  But  a  better  or  more  sensible  man  I 
do  not  know  than  W.  W. 

Afterwards  Lockhart  and  I  called  on  Miss  Nicolson,  and  from 
thence  I  wandered  down  into  that  immense  hash  of  a  city  to  see 
Heath,  and  fortunately  caught  hold  on  him.  All  this  made  me  too 
late  for  Northcote, — who  was  placable,  however.2 

Dined  at  Sir  John  Shelley's,  a  petit  convert.  Here  were  the  Duke 
of  Wellington,  Duke  of  Rutland,  and  only  one  or  two  more,  particu- 
larly Mr.  and  Mrs.  Arbuthnot.  The  evening  was  very  pleasant,  and 
did  not  break  up  till  twelve  at  night. 

May  13. — Breakfasted  with  Sir  George  Philips — there  was  Syd- 
ney Smith,  full  of  fun  and  spirit,  and  his  daughter,  who  is  a  good- 
humoured  agreeable  girl.  Wre  had  a  pleasant  breakfast  party. 

The  Catholics  have  carried  their  question,  which  I  suppose  will 
be  thrown  out  in  the  Lords.  I  think  they  had  better  concede  this 
oft-disputed  point,  and  dissolve  the  league  which  binds  so  many  peo- 
ple in  opposition  to  Government.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  consequence 
that  men  should  not  acquire  the  habit  of  opposing.  No  earthly  ad- 
vantage would  arise  to  Ireland  from  ceding  what  is  retained,  where  so 
much  has  been  already  yielded  up.  Indeed  the  Catholic  gentry  do 
not  pretend  that  the  granting  the  immunities  they  require  would  tran- 
quillise  the  country,  but  only  that  it  would  remove  from  men  of  hon- 
our all  pretext  for  countenancing  them.  This  is  on  the  principle  of 
the  solicitor  of  the  unhappy  Rajah  Nuncomar,  who  after  extorting  as 
much  money  as  he  could,  under  pretence  of  bribing  persons  to  pro- 
cure his  pardon,  facilitate  his  escape,  etc.,  found  himself  pressed  by 
his  victim  for  a  final  answer.  "  The  preparations  for  death  are  ready," 
said  the  Rajah;  "I  fear,  notwithstanding  all  you  have  told  me,  their 
intention  is  to  take  my  life."  "By  G — d,"  replied  the  trusty  solici- 
tor, "  if  they  do  I  will  never  forgive  them."  So  if  there  are  further 
disturbances  after  the  Catholic  claims  are  granted,  I  suppose  those  by 
whom  they  are  now  advocated  will  never  forgive  their  friends  the 
Pats;  and  that  will  be  all  John  Bull  will  get  for  it.  I  dined  with 

»  Whose  son  after  wards  married  Dora,  Words-  dislike  to  painters,  that  whenever  he  saw  a 

worth's  daughter.  man  take  out  a  pencil  and  paper,  and  look  at 

him,  he  set  up  a  howl,  aud  ran  ofl'  to  the  Kil- 

2  At  the  last  sitting  Northcote  remarked,  don  Hill.  His  unfortunate  master,  hnwever 

"You  have  often  sat  for  your  portrait?"  well  he  can  howl,  was  never  able  to  run  much; 

'•Yes,"  said  Sir  Walter;  "  my  dog  Maida  and  he  was  therefore  obliged  to  abide  the  event. 

I  have  sat  frequently  —  so  often  that  Maida,  Yes,  I  have  frequently  sat  for  my  picture.  "- 

who  had  little  philosophy,  conceived  such  a  Cunningham's  Painters,  vol.  vi.  pp.  125-0. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  393 

Lady  Stafford,  for  whom  I  have  much  regard.  I  recollect  her  ever 
since  she  stood  at  her  aunt  Lady  Glenorchy's  window,  in  George 
Square,  reviewing  her  regiment  of  Sutherland  giants.  She  was,  as 
she  ever  is,  most  attentive  and  kind. 

May  14. — I  carried  Lockhart  to  Lady  Francis  Gower's  to  hear  Mrs. 
Arkwright  sing,  and  I  think  he  admired  her  as  much  as  his  nature 
permits  him  to  love  anything  musical,  for  he  certainly  is  not  quickly 
moved  by  concord  of  sweet  sounds.  I  do  not  understand  them  bet- 
ter than  he,  but  the  voce  del  petto  always  affects  me,  and  Mrs.  A.  has 
it  in  perfection.  I  have  received  as  much  pleasure  from  that  lady's 
music  as  sound  could  ever  give  me.1  Lockhart  goes  off  for  Brighton. 
I  had  a  round  of  men  in  office.  I  waited  on  the  Duke  at  Downing 
St.,  and  I  think  put  L.  right  there,  if  he  will  look  to  himself.  But  I 
can  only  tee  the  ball ;  he  must  strike  the  blow  with  the  golf  club 
himself.  I  saw  Mr.  Renton,  and  he  promised  to  look  after  Harper's 
business  favourably.  Good  gracious,  what  a  solicitor  we  are  grown ! 

Dined  with  Lady  Davy — a  pleasant  party ;  but  I  was  out  of  spir- 
its ;  I  think  partly  on  Johnnie's  account,  partly  from  fatigue.  There 
was  William  Henry  Lyttelton  amongst  others  ;  much  of  his  oddity  has 
rubbed  off,  and  he  is  an  honoured  courtly  gentleman, with  a  great  deal  of 
wit ;  and  not  one  of  the  fine  people  who  perplex  you  by  shutting  their 
mouths  if  you  begin  to  speak.  I  never  fear  quizzing,  so  am  not  afraid 
of  this  species  of  lying-in-wait.  Lord  have  mercy  on  me  if  I  were ! 

May  15. — Dined  at  the  Roxburghe  Club.  Lord  Spencer  presided, 
but  had  a  cold  which  limited  his  exertions.  Lord  Clive,  beside  whom 
I  sat,  was  deaf,  though  intelligent  and  good-humoured.  The  Duke 
of  Devonshire  was  still  deafer.  There  were  many  little  chirruping 
men  who  might  have  talked  but  went  into  committee.  There  was  lit- 
tle general  conversation.  I  should  have  mentioned  that  I  breakfasted 
with  kind,  good  Mr.  Hughes,  and  met  the  Bishop  of  Llandaff — strong- 
ly intelligent.  I  do  not  understand  his  politics  about  the  Catholic 
question.  He  seems  disposed  to  concede,  yet  is  Toryissimus.  Per- 
haps they  wish  the  question  ended,  but  the  present  opinions  of  the 
Sovereign  are  too  much  interested  to  permit  them  to  quit  it. 

May  16. — Breakfasted  with  Mr.  Reynolds ;  a  miscellaneous  party. 
Wordsworth,  right  welcome  unto  me,  was  there.  I  had  also  a  sight 
of  Godwin  the  philosopher,  grown  old  and  thin — of  Douglas  Kin- 
naird,  whom  I  asked  about  Byron's  statue,  which  is  going  forward — 
of  Luttrell,  and  others  whom  I  knew  not.  I  stayed  an  instant  at 
Pickering's,  a  young  publisher's,  and  bought  some  dramatic  reprints. 
I  love  them  very  much,  but  I  would  [not]  advise  a  young  man  to  un- 
dertake them.  They  are  of  course  dear,  and  as  they  have  not  the 
dignity  of  scarcity,  the  bibliomaniacs  pass  them  by  as  if  they  were 
plated  candlesticks.  They  may  hold  as  good  a  light  for  all  that  as  if 
they  were  real  silver,  and  therefore  I  buy  them  when  I  can  light  on 

1  See  ante.  May  1st,  p.  380,  note  2. 


394  JOURNAL  [MAY 

them.  Biit  here  I  am  spending  money  when  I  have  more  need  to 
make  it.  On  Monday,  the  26th,  it  shall  be  Northward  ho  ! 

Dined  at  Lady  Georgiana  and  Mr.  Agar  Ellis's.'  There  were  Lord 
and  Lady  Stafford  there,  and  others  to  whom  I  am  sincerely  attached. 

May  17. — A  day  of  busy  idleness.  Richardson  came  and  break- 
fasted with  me  like  a  good  fellow.  Then  I  went  to  Mr.  Chantrey, 
and  sat  for  an  hour  to  finish  the  bust.4  Thereafter,  about  twelve 
o'clock,  I  went  to  breakfast  the  second,  at  Lady  Shelley's,  where  there 
was  a  great  morning  party.  A  young  lady s  begged  a  lock  of  my  hair, 
which  was  not  worth  refusing.  I  stipulated  for  a  kiss,  which  1  was 
permitted  to  take.  From  this  I  went  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who 
gave  me  some  hints  or  rather  details.  Afterwards  I  drove  out  to  Chis- 
wick,  where  I  had  never  been  before.  A  numerous  and  gay  party 
were  assembled  to  walk  and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  that  Palladian 
[dome  ?] ;  the  place  and  highly  ornamented  gardens  belonging  to  it 
resemble  a  picture  of  Watteau.  There  is  some  affectation  in  the 
picture,  but  in  the  ensemble  the  original  looked  very  well.  The  Duke 
of  Devonshire  received  every  one  with  the  best  possible  manners. 
The  scene  was  dignified  by  the  presence  of  an  immense  elephant, 
who,  under  charge  of  a  groom,  wandered  up  and  down,  giving  an  air 
of  Asiatic  pageantry  to  the  entertainment.  I  was  never  before  sensi- 
ble of  the  dignity  which  largeness  of  size  and  freedom  of  movement 
give  to  this  otherwise  very  ugly  animal.  As  I  was  to  dine  at  Holland 
House,  I  did  not  partake  in  the  magnificent  repast  which  was  offered 
to  us,  and  took  myself  off  about  five  o'clock.  I  contrived  to  make  a 
demi-toilette  at  Holland  House  rather  than  drive  all  the  way  to  Lou- 
don.  Rogers  came  to  dinner,  which  was  very  entertaining.  The 
Duke  of  Manchester  was  there,  whom  I  remember  having  seen  long 
ago.  He  had  left  a  part  of  his  brain  in  Jamaica  by  a  terrible  fract- 
ure, yet,  notwithstanding  the  accident  and  the  bad  climate,  was  still 
a  fine -looking  man.  Lady  Holland4  pressed  me  to  stay  all  night, 
which  I  did  accordingly. 

May  18. — The  freshness  of  the  air,  the  singing  of  the  birds,  the 
beautiful  aspect  of  nature,  the  size  of  the  venerable  trees,  all  gave  me 
a  delightful  feeling  this  morning.  It  seemed  there  was  pleasure  even 
in  living  and  breathing,  without  anything  else.  We  (i.e.  Rogers  and 
I)  wandered  into  a  green  lane  bordered  with  fine  trees,  which  might 
have  been  twenty  miles  from  a  town.  It  will  be  a  great  pity  when 
this  ancient  house  must  come  down  and  give  way  to  brick  works  and 
brick-houses.  It  is  not  that  Holland  House  is  fine  as  a  building ;  on 

1  Mr.  Ellis,  afterwards  created  Baron  Dover,  Lockhart  says  the  young  lady  was  Miss  Shel- 

was  the  author  of  Historical  Inquiries  into  the  ley,  who  became  iu  1834  the  Hon.  Mrs.  George 

Character  of  Lord  Clarendon.    8vo,  Lond.  1827.  Edgcumbe. 

«  Scott  had  dined  at  Holland  House  in  180C, 

*  Sir  F.  Chantrey  was  at  this  time  executing  but  in  consequeuce  of  some  remarks  by  Lord 

his  second  bust  of  Sir  Walter— that  ordered  by  Hol|and  in  the  House  of  Lords  iu   1810,  on 

bir  Robert  Peel,  and  which  is  now  at  Draytou.  Thomas  Scott's  affairs,  there  had  apparently 

— *•  °  L-  been  no  renewal  of  the  acquaintanceship  until 

»  Lady   Shelley   of  Maresneld   Park.      Mr.  now. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  395 

the  contrary,  it  has  a  tumble -down  look;  and,  although  decorated 
with  the  bastard  Gothic  of  James  i.'s  time,  the  front  is  heavy.  But 
it  resembles  many  respectable  matrons,  who,  having  been  absolutely 
ugly  during  youth,  acquire  by  age  an  air  of  dignity ; — though  one  is 
chiefly  affected  by  the  air  of  deep  seclusion  which  is  spread  around 
the  domain.  I  called  on  Mr.  Peel  as  I  returned  home,  and  after  that 
on  Lord  Melville.  The  latter  undertook  for  Allan  Cunningham's  son's 
cadetship,  for  which  I  am  right  glad. 

Dined  at  Mr.  and  Lady  Sarah  Ponsonby's,  who  called  on  us  last 
year  at  Abbotsford.  The  party  was  very  pleasant,  having  Lord  and 
Lady  Gower,  whom  I  like,  Mr.  and  Lady  Georgiana  Ellis,  and  other 
persons  of  distinction.  Saw  Wordsworth  too,  and  learned  that  Tom 
Moore  was  come  to  town. 

May  1 9. — A  morning  of  business.  Breakfasted  with  Dumergue 
and  one  or  two  friends.  Dined  by  command  with  the  Duchess  of 
Kent.  I  was  very  kindly  recognised  by  Prince  Leopold.  I  was  pre- 
sented to  the  little  Princess  Victoria, — I  hope  they  will  change  her 
name, — the  heir  apparent  to  the  Crown  as  things  now  stand.  How 
strange  that  so  large  and  fine  a  family  as  that  of  his  late  Majesty 
should  have  died  off  and  decayed  into  old  age  with  so  few  descend- 
ants !  Prince  George  of  Cumberland  is,  they  say,  a  fine  boy  about 
nine  years  old — a  bit  of  a  pickle,  swears  and  romps  like  a  brat  that 
has  been  bred  in  a  barrack  yard.  This  little  lady  is  educated  with 
much  care,  and  watched  so  closely  by  the  Duchess  and  the  principal 
governess,  that  no  busy  maid  has  a  moment  to  whisper,  "  You  are 
heir  of  England."  I  suspect  if  we  could  dissect  the  little  head,  we 
should  find  that  some  pigeon  or  other  bird  of  the  air  had  carried  the 
matter.  She  is  fair,  like  the  Royal  Family,  but  does  not  look  as  if 
she  would  be  pretty.  The  Duchess  herself  is  very  pleasing  and  affa- 
ble in  her  manners.  I  sat  by  Mr.  Spring  Rice,  a  very  agreeable  man. 
He  is  a  great  leader  among  the  Pro-Catholics.  I  saw  also  Charles 
Wynn  and  his  lady — and  the  evening,  for  a  Court  evening,  went  agree- 
ably off.  I  am  commanded  for  two  days  by  Prince  Leopold,  but  will 
send  excuses. 

May  20. — I  set  out  for  Brighton  this  morning  in  a  light  coach, 
which  performed  the  distance  in  six  hours — otherwise  the  journey 
was  uncomfortable.  Three  women,  the  very  specimens  of  woman- 
kind,— I  mean  trumpery, — a  child  who  was  sick,  but  afterwards 
looked  and  smiled,  and  was  the  only  thing  like  company.  The  road 
is  pleasant  enough  till  it  gets  into  the  Wealds  of  Sussex,  a  huge  suc- 
cession of  green  downs  which  sweep  along  the  sea-coast  for  many 
miles.  Brighton  seems  grown  twice  as  large  since  1815.  It  is  a  city 
of  loiterers  and  invalids — a  Vanity  Fair  for  pipers,  dancing  of  bears, 
and  for  the  feats  of  Mr.  Punch.  I  found  all  my  family  well  except- 
ing the  poor  pale  Johnnie ;  and  he  is  really  a  thing  to  break  one's 
heart  by  looking  at — yet  he  is  better.  The  rest  are  in  high  kelter. 

My  old  friend  Will  Rose  dined  with  us,  also  a  Doctor  Yates  and 


396  JOURNAL  [MAY 

his  wife — the  Esculapius  of  Brighton,  who  seems  a  sensible  man.  I 
was  entertained  with  the  empire  he  exerted  over  him  as  protector  of 
his  health.  I  was  very  happy  to  find  myself  at  Sophia's  quiet  table, 
and  am  only  sorry  that  I  must  quit  her  so  soon. 

May  21. — This  being  a  fine  day,  we  made  some  visits  in  the 
morning,  in  the  course  of  which  I  waited  on  Mrs.  Davies,  sister  of 
Mrs.  Charlotte  Smith,1  and  herself  the  author  of  the  Peacock  at  Home, 
one  of  the  prettiest  and  liveliest  jeux  <F esprit  in  our  language.  She 
is  a  fine  stately  old  lady — not  a  bit  of  a  literary  person, — I  mean  hav- 
ing none  of  the  affectation  of  it,  but  like  a  lady  of  considerable  rank. 
I  am  glad  I  have  seen  her.  Renewed  my  acquaintance  with  Lady 
Charlotte  Hamilton,  nee  Lady  Charlotte  Hume,  and  talked  over  some 
stories  thirty  years  old  at  least.  We  then  took  a  fly,  as  they  call  the 
light  carriages,  and  drove  as  far  as  the  Devil's  Ditch.  A  rampart  it 
is  of  great  strength  and  depth,  enclosing,  I  presume,  the  precincts  of 
a  British  town  that  must  have  held  30,000  men  at  least.  I  could  not 
discover  where  they  got  water. 

We  got  home  at  four,  and  dined  at  five,  and  smoked  cigars  till 
eight.  Will  Rose  came  in  with  his  man  Hinvaes,8  who  is  as  much  a 
piece  of  Rose  as  Trim  was  of  Uncle  Toby.  We  laughed  over  tales 
"  both  old  and  new  "  till  ten  o'clock  came,  and  then  broke  up. 

May  22. — Left  Brighton  this  morning  with  a  heavy  heart.  I'.-ur 
Johnnie  looks  so  very  poorly  that  I  cannot  but  regard  his  case  as 
desperate,  and  then  God  help  the  child's  parents  !  Amen  ! 

We  took  the  whole  of  one  of  the  post-coaches,  and  so  came  rap- 
idly to  town,  Sophia  coming  along  with  us  about  a  new  servant. 
This  enabled  me  to  dine  with  Mr.  Adolphus,  the  celebrated  barrister, 
the  father  to  my  young  friend  who  wrote  so  like  a  gentleman  on  my 
matters.3  I  met  Mr.  Xjrurney,  Archdeacon  Wrangham,  and  a  lawver 
or  two  besides.  I  may  be  partial,  but  the  conversation  of  intelligent 
barristers  amuses  me  more  than  that  of  other  professional  persons. 
There  is  more  of  real  life  in  it,  with  which,  in  all  its  phases,  people 
of  business  get  so  well  acquainted.  Mr.  Adolphus  is  a  man  of  varied 

1  See  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works,\o\.  iv.  p.  20.  more,  a  poem  by  the  same  "author,"  accept  of 

2  David  Hinves,  Mr.  W.  Stewart  Rose's  faith-  this  corrected  copy  of  Cliristabel  as  a  small  to 
ful  and  affectionate  attendant,  furnished  Scott  ken  of  regard ;  yet  such  a  testimonial  as  I 
with  some  hints  for  his  picture  of  Davie  Gel-  would  not  pay  to  any  one  I  did  not  esteem, 
liitly  in  Wavertey.  though  he  were  an  emperor. 

Mr.  Lockhart  tells  us  that  Hinves  was  more  "  Be  assured  I  will  send  you  for  your  private 

than  forty  years  in  Mr.  Rose's  service;  he  had  library  every  work  I  have  published  (if  thru- 

been  a  bookbinder  by  trade  and  a  preacher  be  any  to  be  had)  and  whatever  I  shall  pub- 

among  the  Methodists.  lish.    "Keep  steady  to  the  FAITH.    If  the  fouut- 

"A  sermon  heard  casually  under  a  tree  in  aiuhcad  be  always  full,  the  stream  cannot  be 

the  New  Forest  contained  such  touches  of  good  long  empty. — Yours  sincerely,  S.  T.  COLKKIDGE. 

feeling  and  broad  humour  that  Rose  promoted  ><•  n  jvwm4«r,  1816,  Mudford.'" 

the  preacher  to  be  his  valet  on  the  spot.     He      ^fe  vo[  jv'pp  397-8 

was  treated  more  like  a  friend  than  a  servant  Staves  died  in  Mr.  Rose's  service  circa  1838, 

by  his  master  and  by  all  his  master  s  intimate  am,  big  master  fo)Iowed  him  on  tne  30th  Aprii 

friends.      Scott   presented  him   with  all   his  1843  a  few  weeks  aftur  his  friend  Morritt 
works;  and  Coleridge  gave  him  a  corrected  (or 

rather  an  altered)  copy  of  Christabel  with  this  *  An  analysis  of  these  letters  was  published 

inscription  on  the  fly-leaf:   'Dear  Hinves,—  by  Mr.  Lockhart  in  the  Life,  vol  vi.  pp.  340- 

•  Till  this  book  is  concluded,  and  with  it  Gundi-  380. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  397 

information,  and  very  amusing.  He  told  me  a  gipsy  told  him  of  the 
success  he  should  have  in  life,  and  how  it  would  be  endangered  by 
his  own  heat  of  temper,  alluding,  I  believe,  to  a  quarrel  betwixt  him 
and  a  brother  barrister. 

May  23. — I  breakfasted  with  Chantrey,  and  met  the  celebrated 
Coke  of  Norfolk,1  a  very  pleasing  man,  who  gave  me  some  account 
of  his  plantations.  I  understand  from  him  that,  like  every  wise  man, 
he  planted  land  that  would  not  let  for  5s.  per  acre,  but  which  now 
produces  £3000  a  year  in  wood.  He  talked  of  the  trees  which  he 
had  planted  as  being  so  thick  that  a  man  could  not  fathom2  them. 
Withers,  he  said,  was  never  employed  save  upon  one  or  two  small 
jobs  of  about  twenty  acres  on  which  every  expense  was  bestowed 
with  a  view  to  early  growth.  So  much  for  Withers.  I  shall  have  a 
rod  in  pickle  for  him  if  worth  while.3  After  sitting  to  Chantrey  for 
the  last  time,  I  called  on  Lady  Shelley,  P.  P.  C.,  and  was  sorry  to  find 
her  worse  than  she  had  been.  Dined  with  Lady  Stafford,  where  I 
met  the  two  Lochs,  John  and  James.  The  former  gave  me  his  prom- 
ise for  a  cadetship  to  Allan  Cunningham's  son  ;  I  have  a  similar 
promise  from  Lord  Melville,  and  thus  I  am  in  the  situation  in  which 
I  have  been  at  Gladdies  Wiel,4  where  I  have  caught  two  trouts,  one 
with  the  fly,  the  other  with  the  bobber.  I  have  landed  both,  and  so 
I  will  now.  Mr.  Loch  also  promised  me  to  get  out  Shortreed  as  a 
free  mariner.  Tom  Grenville  was  at  dinner. 

May  24. — This  day  we  dined  at  Richmond  Park  with  Lord  Sid- 
mouth.  Before  dinner  his  Lordship  showed  me  letters  which  passed 
between  the  great  Lord  Chatham  and  Dr.  Addington,  Lord  Sidmouth's 
[father].  There  was  much  of  that  familiar  friendship  which  arises, 
and  must  arise,  between  an  invalid,  the  head  of  an  invalid  family, 
and  their  medical  adviser,  supposing  the  last  to  be  a  wise  and  well- 
bred  man.  The  character  of  Lord  Chatham's  handwriting  is  strong 
and  bold,  and  his  expressions  short  and  manly.  There  are  intima- 
tions of  his  partiality  for  William,  whose  health  seems  to  have  been 
precarious  during  boyhood.  He  talks  of  William  imitating  him  in 
all  he  did,  and  calling  for  ale  because  his  father  was  recommended 
to  drink  it.  "  If  I  should  smoke,"  he  said,  "  William  would  instantly 
call  for  a  pipe ;"  and,  he  wisely  infers,  "  I  must  take  care  what  I  do." 
The  letters  of  the  late  William  Pitt  are  of  great  curiosity,  but  as,  like 
all  real  letters  of  business,  they  only  allude  to  matters  with  which 
his  correspondent  is  well  acquainted,  and  do  not  enter  into  details, 
they  would  require  an  ample  commentary.  I  hope  Lord  Sidmouth 

1  Created  Earl  of  Leicester  .in  1837.  "burning  the  water"  in  company  with  Hogg 

2  It  is  worth  noting  that  Sir  Walter  first  and  Laidlaw.     Hogg  records  that  the  crazy- 
wrote  "  grasp  "—and  then  deleted  the  word  in  coble  went  to  the  bottom   while  Scott  was 
favour  of  the  technical  term — "  fathom."  shouting — 

3  W.  Withers  had  just  published  a  Letter  to  ,    . 

Sir  Walter  Scott  exposing  certain  fundamental  £°,  *\en  ™ihf  t^ow!?  ' 

errors  in  his  late  Essay  on  Planting, — Holt: 

Norfolk,  1828.  The  scene  was  not  forgotten  when  he  came  to 

4  A  deep  pool  in  the  Tweed,  in  which  Scott      write  the  twenty-sixth  chapter  of  Guy  Man- 
had  had  a  singular  nocturnal  adventure  while      wring. 


398  JOURNAL  [MAY 

will  supply  this,  and  have  urged  it  as  much  as  I  can.  I  think,  though 
I  hate  letters  and  abominate  interference,  I  will  write  to  him  on  this 
subject. 

I  have  bought  a  certain  quantity  of  reprints  from  a  bookseller  in 
Chancery  Lane,  Pickering  by  name.  I  urged  him  to  print  the  con- 
troversy between  Greene  and  the  Harveys.  He  wished  me  to  write 
a  third  part  to  a  fine  edition  of  Cotton's  Angler,  for  which  I  am  quite 
incompetent.1 

I  met  at  Richmond  my  old  and  much  esteemed  friend  Lord  Stow- 
cll,a  looking  very  frail  and  even  comatose.  Quantum  mutatus  !  He 
was  one  of  the  pleasantest  men  I  ever  knew. 

Respecting  the  letters,  I  picked  up  from  those  of  Pitt  that  he  was 
always  extremely  desirous  of  peace  with  France,  and  even  reckoned 
upon  it  at  a  moment  when  he  ought  to  have  despaired.  I  suspect 
this  false  view  of  the  state  of  France  (for  such  it  was),  which  in- 
duced the  British  Minister  to  look  for  peace  when  there  was  no 
chance  of  it,  damped  his  ardour  in  maintaining  the  war.  He  wanted 
the  lofty  ideas  of  his  father — you  read  it  in  his  handwriting,  great 
statesman  as  he  was.  I  saw  a  letter  or  two  of  Burke's  in  which  there 
is  an  epanchement  du  coeur  not  visible  in  those  of  Pitt,  who  writes  like 
a  Premier  to  his  colleague.  Burke  was  under  the  strange  hallucina- 
tion that  his  son,  who  predeceased  him,  was  a  man  of  greater  talents 
than  himself.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  little  talent  and  no  resolu- 
tion. On  moving  some  resolutions  in  favour  of  the  Catholics,  which 
were  ill-received  by  the  House  of  Commons,  young  Burke  actually 
ran  away,  which  an  Orangeman  compared  to  a  cross-reading  in  the 
newspapers : — Yesterday  the  Catholic  resolutions  were  moved,  etc., 
but,  the  pistol  missing  fire,  the  villains  ran  off  1 

May  25. — After  a  morning  of  letter-writing,  leave-taking,  papers 
destroying,  and  God  knows  what  trumpery,  Sophia  and  I  set  out  for 
Hampton  Court,  carrying  with  us  the  following  lions  and  lionesses — 
Samuel  Rogers,  Tom  Moore,  Wordsworth,  with  wife  and  daughter. 
We  were  very  kindly  and  properly  received  by  Walter  and  his  wife, 
and  a  very  pleasant  party.' 

May  26. — An  awful  confusion  with  paying  of  bills,  writing  of 
cards,  and  all  species  of  trumpery  business.  Southey,  who  is  just 
come  to  town,  breakfasted  with  us.  He  looks,  I  think,  but  poorly, 
but  it  may  be  owing  to  family  misfortune.  One  is  always  tempted 
to  compare  Wordsworth  and  Southey.  The  latter  is  unquestionably 
the  greater  scholar — I  mean  possesses  the  most  extensive  stock  of 

1  This  refers  to  the  splendid  edition  of  Wai-  ton  (where  we  found  the  Wordsworths),  walked 

ton  and  Cotton,  edited  by  Nicolas,  and  illus-  about,— the  whole  party  in  the  gay  walk  where 

trated  by  Stothard  and  Inskipp,  published  in  the  band  plays,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  the 

1836  after  nearly  ten  years'  preparation,  in  two  Hampton  bluet,  who  were  all  eyes  after  Scott, 

vols.  large  8vo.  The  other  scribblers  not  corning  in  for  a  glance. 

»  Sir  William  Scott,  Lord  Stowell,  died  28th  Thc  dinner  odd;  but  being  near  Scott  I  found 

Jamiarv  IRSfi  aporl  ninptr  it  agreeable,  and  was  delighted  to  see  him  so 

January,  1836,  aged  hap£y  ^jg  hjg  ^  gQn>  ^  Major>,,  ctc ^  eta 

•  Moore  writes:  "On  our  arrival  at  Hamp-      — Diary,  vol.  v.  p.  287. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  399 

information,  but  there  is  a  freshness,  vivacity,  and  spring  about  Words- 
worth's rnind,  which,  if  we  may  compare  two  men  of  uncommon 
powers,  shows  more  originality.  I  say  nothing  of  their  poetry. 
Wordsworth  has  a  system  which  disposes  him  to  take  the  bull  by 
the  horns  and  offend  public  taste,  which,  right  or  wrong,  will  always 
be  the  taste  of  the  public ;  yet  he  could  be  popular  if  he  would, — 
witness  the  Feast  at  Brougham  Castle, — Song  of  the  Cliffords,  I  think, 
is  the  name. 

I  walked  down  to  call,  with  Rogers,  on  Mrs.  D'Arblay.  She 
showed  me  some  notes  which  she  was  making  about  her  novels, 
which  she  induced  me  to  believe  had  been  recollected  and  jotted 
down  in  compliance  with  my  suggestions  on  a  former  occasion.  It 
is  curious  how  she  contrived  to  get  Evelina  printed  and  published 
without  her  father's  knowledge.  Her  brother  placed  it  in  the  hands 
of  one  Lowndes,  who,  after  its  success,  bought  it  for  £20! ! !  and  had 
the  magnanimity  to  add  £10 — the  price,  I  think,  of  Paradise  Lost. 
One  of  her  sisters  betrayed  the  secret  to  her  father,  who  then  eager- 
ly lent  his  ears  to  hear  what  was  said  of  the  new  novel,  and  the  first 
opinion  which  saluted  his  delighted  ears  was  the  voice  of  Johnson 
energetically  recommending  it  to  the  perusal  of  Mrs.  Thrale.1 

At  parting,  Rogers  gave  me  a  gold-mounted  pair  of  glasses,  which 
I  will  not  part  with  in  a  hurry.  I  really  like  Rogers,  and  have  always 
found  him  most  friendly.  After  many  petty  delays  we  set  off  at  last 
and  reached  Bushy  Grove  to  dine  with  my  kind  and  worthy  family 
friend  and  relative,  David  Haliburton.  I  am  delighted  to  find  him  in 
all  the  enjoyment  of  life,  with  the  vivacity  of  youth  in  his  sentiments 
and  enjoyments.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Campbell  Marjoribanks  are  the  only 
company  here,  with  Miss  Parker. 

May  27. — Well,  my  retreat  from  London  is  now  accomplished, 
and  I  may  fairly  balance  the  advantage  and  loss  of  this  London  trip. 
It  has  cost  me  a  good  deal  of  money,  and  Johnnie's  illness  has  taken 
away  much  of  the  pleasure  I  had  promised  myself.  But  if  I  can 
judge  from  the  reception  I  have  met  with,  I  have  the  pleasure  to  know 
that  I  stand  as  fair  with  the  public,  and  as  high  with  my  personal 
friends,  as  in  any  period  of  my  life.  And  this  has  enabled  me  to  for- 
ward the  following  objects  to  myself  and  others : — 

1st.  I  have  been  able  to  place  Lockart  on  the  right  footing  in 
the  right  quarter,  leaving  the  improvement  of  his  place  of  vantage  to 
himself  as  circumstances  should  occur. 

2d.  I  have  put  the  Chancery  suit  in  the  right  train,  which  without 
me  could  not  have  been  done.' 


1  The  author  of  Evelina  died  at  Bath  in  1840,  copyright.     This  was  the  year  in  which  Wa- 
al the  age  of  eighty  eight.     Subsequent  to  this  verley  appeared,  for  the  copyright  of  which 
meeting  with  Scott  she  published  memoirs  of  Constable  did  not  see  his  way  to  offer  more 
her  father,  Dr.  Burney  (in  1832).     It  is  stated  than  £700. 
that  for  her  novel  Camilla,  published  in  179G, 

she  received  a  subscription  of  3000  guineas,  2  This  item  refers  to  money  which  had  be- 

and  for  the  Wanderer,  in  1814,  £1500  for  the  longed  to  Lady  Scott's  parents. 


400  JOURNAL  [MAY 

3d.  I  picked  up  some  knowledge  of  the  state  of  existing  matters, 
which  is  interesting  and  may  be  useful. 

4th.  I  have  succeeded  in  helping  to  get  a  commission  for  James 
Skene. 

5th.  I  have  got  two  cadetships  for  the  sons  of  Allan  Cunning- 
ham. 

6th.  I  have  got  leave  to  Andrew  Shortreed  to  go  out  to  India. 

7th.  I  have  put  John  Eckford  into  correspondence  with  Mr.  Loch, 
who  thinks  he  can  do  something  for  his  claim. 

8th.  I  have  been  of  material  assistance  to  poor  Terry  in  his  affairs. 

9th.  I  have  effectually  protected  my  Darnick  neighbours  and  my- 
self against  the  New  Road  Bill. 

Other  advantages  there  are.  besides  the  great  one  of  scouring  up 
one's  own  mind  a  little  and  renewing  intercourse  with  old  friends, 
bringing  one's-self  nearer  in  short  to  the  currency  of  the  time. 

All  this  may  weigh  against  the  expenditure  of  £200  or  £250, 
when  money  is  fortunately  not  very  scarce  with  me. 

We  went  out  for  a  most  agreeable  drive  through  the  Hertford- 
shire Lanes — a  strange  intricate  combination  of  narrow  roads  passing 
through  the  country,  winding  and  turning  among  oaks  and  other  large; 
timber,  just  like  path-ways  cut  through  a  forest.  They  wind  and  turn 
in  so  singular  a  manner,  and  resemble  each  other  so  much,  that  a 
stranger  would  have  difficulty  to  make  way  amongst  them.  We  vis- 
ited Moor  Park  (not  the  house  of  Sir  William  Temple,  but  that 
where  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Monmouth  lived).  Having  rather 
a  commanding  situation,  you  look  down  on  the  valley,  which,  being 
divided  into  small  enclosures  bordered  with  wood,  resembles  a  forest 
when  so  looked  down  on.  The  house  has  a  handsome  entrance-hall, 
painted  by  Sir  James  Thornhill,  in  a  very  French  tastc,.yet  handsome. 
He  was  Hogarth's  father-in-law,  and  not  easily  reconciled  to  the 
match.  Thornhill's  paintings  are  certainly  not  of  the  first  class,  \ •<•( 
the  practice  of  painting  the  walls  and  roof  of  a  dwelling-house  gives, 
in  my  eyes,  a  warm  and  rich  air  to  the  apartments.  Lord  Grosvenor 
has  now  bought  this  fine  place,  once  Lord  Anson's — hence  the  Moor 
Park  apricot  is  also  called  Ansoniana.  After  seeing  Moor  Park  we 
went  to  the  Grove,  the  Earl  of  Clarendon's  country-seat.  The  house 
looks  small  and  of  little  consequence,  but  contains  many  good  por- 
traits, as  I  was  told,  of  the  Hyde  family.1  The  park  has  fine  views 
and  magnificent  trees. 

We  went  to  Cashiobury,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  an  old 
mansion,  apparently,  with  a  fine  park.  The  Colne  runs  through  the 
grounds,  or  rather  creeps  through  them. 

"For  the  Colne 
Is  black  and  swollen, 

Snake-like,  he  winds  his  way, 

1  It  contains  half  of  Chancellor  Clarendon's  famous  collection— the  other  half  is  at  Bothwell 
Castle. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  401 

Unlike  the  burns 
From  Highland  urns 
That  dance  by  crag  and  brae." 

Borth wick-brae1  came  to  dinner  from  town,  and  we  had  a  very  pleas- 
ant evening.  My  excellent  old  friend  reminded  me  of  the  old  and 
bitter  feud  between  the  Scotts  and  the  Haliburtons,  and  observed  it 
was  curious  I  should  have  united  the  blood  of  two  hostile  clans. 

May  28. — We  took  leave  of  our  kind  old  host  after  breakfast,  and 
set  out  for  our  own  land.  Our  elegant  researches  carried  us  out  of 
the  high-road  and  through  a  labyrinth  of  intricate  lanes, — which 
seem  made  on  purpose  to  afford  strangers  the  full  benefit  of  a  dark 
night  and  a  drunk  driver, — in  order  to  visit  Gill's  Hill,  famous  for  the 
murder  of  Mr.  Weare. 

The  place  has  the  strongest  title  to  the  description  of  Words- 
worth : — 

"A  merry  spot,  'tis  said,  in  days  of  yore, 
But  something  ails  it  now — the  place  is  cursed." 

The  principal  part  of  the  house  has  been  destroyed,  and  only  the 
kitchen  remains  standing.  The  garden  has  been  dismantled,  though 
a  few  laurels  and  garden  shrubs,  run  wild,  continue  to  mark  the  spot. 
The  fatal  pond  is  now  only  a  green  swamp,  but  so  near  the  house  that 
one  cannot  conceive  how  it  was  ever  chosen  as  a  place  of  temporary 
concealment  of  the  murdered  body.  Indeed  the  whole  history  of  the 
murder,  and  the  scenes  which  ensued,  are  strange  pictures  of  desper- 
ate and  short-sighted  wickedness.  The  feasting — the  singing — the 
murderer  with  his  hands  still  bloody  hanging  round  the  neck  of  one 
of  the  females — the  watch-chain  of  the  murdered  man,  argue  the  ut- 
most apathy.  Even  Probert,  the  most  frightened  of  the  party,  fled  no 
further  for  relief  than  to  the  brandy  bottle,  and  is  found  in  the  very 
lane,  and  at  the  spot  of  the  murder,  seeking  for  the  murderous  weapon, 
and  exposing  himself  to  the  view  of  the  passengers.  Another  singu- 
lar mark  of  stupid  audacity  was  their  venturing  to  wear  the  clothes 
of  their  victim.  There  was  a  want  of  foresight  in  the  whole  arrange- 
ment of  the  deed,  and  the  attempts  to  conceal  it,  which  argu'ed  strange 
inconsideration,  which  a  professed  robber  would  not  have  exhibited. 
There  was  just  one  single  shade  of  redeeming  character  about  a  busi- 
ness so  brutal,  perpetrated  by  men  above  the  very  lowest  rank  of  life 
— it  was  the  mixture  of  revenge  which  afforded  some  relief  to  the 
circumstances  of  treachery  and  premeditation  which  accompanied  it. 
But  W'eare  was  a  cheat,  and  had  no  doubt  pillaged  Thurtell,  who 
therefore  deemed  he  might  take  greater  liberties  with  him  than  with 
others. 

The  dirt  of  the  present  habitation  equalled  its  wretched  desola- 

1  William  Elliot  Lockhart  of  Cleghorn  and  Bortbwick-brae,  long  M.P.  for  Selkirkshire. 

26 


402  JOURNAL  [MAY 

tion,  and  a  truculent-looking  hag,  who  showed  us  the  place,  and  re- 
ceived half-a-crown,  looked  not  unlike  the  natural  inmate  of  such  a 
mansion.  She  indicated  as  much  herself,  saying  the  landlord  had 
dismantled  the  place  because  no  respectable  person  would  live  there. 
She  seems  to  live  entirely  alone,  and  fears  no  ghosts,  she  says. 

One  thing  about  this  mysterious  tragedy  was  never  explained.  It 
is  said  that  Weare,  as  is  the  habit  of  such  men,  always  carried  about 
his  person,  and  between  his  flannel  waistcoat  and  shirt,  a  sum  of  ready 
money,  equal  to  £1500  or  £2000.  No  such  money  was  ever  recov- 
ered, and  as  the  sum  divided  by  Thurtell  among  his  accomplices  was 
only  about  £20,  he  must,  in  slang  phrase,  have  bucketed  his  ^erfo.1 

We  came  on  as  far  as  Alconbury,  where  we  slept  comfortably. 

May  29. — We  travelled  from  Alconbury  Hill  to  Ferry  Bridge, 
upwards  of  a  hundred  miles,  amid  all  the  beauties  of  "  flourish  "  and 
verdure  which  spring  awakens  at  her  first  approach  in  the  midland 
counties  of  England,  but  without  any  variety  save  those  of  the  sea- 
son's making.  I  do  believe  this  great  north  road  is  the  dullest  in 
the  world,  as  well  as  the  most  convenient  for  the  traveller.  Nothing 
seems  to  me  to  have  been  altered  within  twenty  or  thirty  years,  save 
the  noses  of  the  landlords,  which  have  bloomed  and  given  place  to 
another  set  of  proboscises  as  germane  as  the  old  ones  to  the  vrry 
welcome, — please  to  light — '  Orses  forward,  and  ready  out.  The  skele- 
ton at  Barnby  Moor  has  deserted  his  gibbet,  and  that  is  the  only 
change  I  recollect. 

I  have  amused  myself  to-day  with  reading  Lockhart's  Life  of 
Burns,  which  is  very  well  written — in  fact,  an  admirable  thing.  He 
has  judiciously  slurred  over  his  vices  and  follies ;  for  although  Cur- 
rie,  I  myself,  and  others,  have  not  said  a  word  more  on  that  subject 
than  is  true,  yet  as  the  dead  corpse  is  straightened,  swathed,  and  made 
decent,  so  ought  the  character  of  such  an  inimitable  genius  as  Burns 
to  be  tenderly  handled  after  death.  The  knowledge  of  his  vicious 
weaknesses  or  vices  is  only  a  subject  of  sorrow  to  the  well-disposed, 
and  of  triumph  to  the  profligate. 

May  30. — We  left  Ferry  Bridge  at  seven,  and  turning  westwards, 
or  rather  northwestward,  at  Borough  Bridge,  we  reach  Rokeby  at 
past  three.  A  mile  from  the  house  we  met  Morritt  looking  for  us. 
I  had  great  pleasure  at  finding  myself  at  Rokeby,  and  recollecting  a 
hundred  passages  of  past  time.  Morritt  looks  well  and  easy  in  his 
mind,  which  I  am  delighted  to  see.  He  is  now  one  of  my  oldest, 
and,  I  believe,  one  of  my  most  sincere,  friends,  a  man  unequalled  in 
the  mixture  of  sound  good  sense,  high  literary  cultivation,  and  the 
kindest  and  sweetest  temper  that  ever  graced  a  human  bosom.  His 
nieces  are  much  attached  to  him,  and  are  deserving  and  elegant,  as 
well  as  beautiful  young  women.  What  there  is  in  our  partiality  to 

i  Weare,  Thurtell,  and  the  rest  were  professed  gamblers.    See  ante,  July  16, 1826,  and  Lift,  voL 
viii.  p.  381. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  403 

female  beauty  that  commands  a  species  of  temperate  homage  from 
the  aged,  as  well  as  ecstatic  admiration  from  the  young,  I  cannot  con- 
ceive, but  it  is  certain  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  some  other 
amiable  quality  is  too  little  to  counterbalance  the  absolute  want  of 
this  advantage.  I,  to  whom  beauty  is  and  shall  henceforth  be  a  pict- 
ure, still  look  upon  it  with  the  quiet  devotion  of  an  old  worshipper, 
who  no  longer  offers  incense  on  the  shrine,  but  peaceably  presents 
his  inch  of  taper,  taking  special  care  in  doing  so  not  to  burn  his  own 
fingers.  Nothing  in  life  can  be  more  ludicrous  or  contemptible  than 
an  old  man  aping  the  passions  of  his  youth. 

Talking  of  youth,  there  was  a  certain  professor  at  Cambridge  who 
used  to  keep  sketches  of  all  the  youths  who,  from  their  conduct  at 
college,  seemed  to  bid  fair  for  distinction  in  life.  He  showed  them, 
one  day,  to  an  old  shrewd  sarcastic  Master  of  Arts,  who  looked  over 
the  collection,  and  then  observed,  "A  promising  nest  of  eggs;  what 
a  pity  the  great  part  will  turn  out  addle  !"  And  so  they  do  ;  looking 
round  amongst  the  young  men,  one  sees  to  all  appearance  fine  flour- 
ish— but  it  ripens  not. 

May  31. — I  have  finished  Napier's  War  in  the  Peninsula.1  It  is 
written  in  the  spirit  of  a  Liberal,  but  the  narrative  is  distinct  and 
clear,  and  I  should  suppose  accurate.  He  has,  however,  given  a  bad 
sample  of  accuracy  in  the  case  of  Lord  Strangford,  where  his  pointed 
affirmation  has  been  as  pointedly  repelled.  It  is  evident  he  would 
require  probing.  His  defence  of  Moore  is  spirited  and  well  argued, 
though  it  is  evident  he  defends  the  statesman  as  much  as  the  gener- 
al. As  a  Liberal  and  a  military  man,  Colonel  Napier  finds  it  difficult 
to  steer  his  course.  The  former  character  calls  on  him  to  plead  for 
the  insurgent  Spaniards ;  the  latter  induces  him  to  palliate  the  cru- 
elties of  the  French.  Good-even  to  him  until  next  volume,  which  I 
shall  long  to  see.  This  was  a  day  of  pleasure  and  nothing  else.  After 
breakfast  I  walked  with  Morritt  in  the  new  path  he  has  made  up  the 
Tees.  When  last  here,  his  poor  nephew  was  of  the  party.  It  hangs 
on  my  mind,  and  perhaps  on  Morritt's,  When  we  returned  we  took 
a  short  drive  as  far  as  Barnard  Castle ;  and  the  business  of  eating 
and  drinking  took  up  the  remainder  of  the  evening,  excepting  a  dip 
into  the  Greta  Walk. 

>  The  first  volume  had  just  been  published  in  1828.    The  book  was  completed  in  6  vols.  in  1840. 


JUNE 

June  1. — We  took  leave  of  our  friends  at  Rokeby  after  breakfast, 
and  pursued  our  well-known  path  over  Stanmore  to  Brough,  Appleby, 
Penrith,  and  Carlisle.  As  I  have  this  road  by  heart,  I  have  little 
amusement  save  the  melancholy  task  of  recalling  the  sensations  with 
which  I  have  traced  it  in  former  times,  all  of  which  refer  to  decay  of 
animal  strength,  and  abatement  if  not  of  mental  powers,  at  least  of 
mental  energy.  The  non  est  tanti  grows  fast  at  my  time  of  life.  We 
reached  Carlisle  at  seven  o'clock,  and  were  housed  for  the  night. 
My  books  being  exhausted,  I  lighted  on  an  odd  volume  of  the  Gen- 
tleman's Magazine,  a  work  in  which,  as  in  a  pawnbroker's  shop,  much 
of  real  curiosity  and  value  are  stowed  away  and  concealed  amid  the 
frippery  and  trumpery  of  those  reverend  old  gentlewomen  who  were 
the  regular  correspondents  of  the  work. 

June  2. — We  intended  to  walk  to  the  Castle,  but  were  baffled  by 
rainy  weather.  I  was  obliged  to  wait  for  a  certificate  from  the  parish 
register — Hei  mihi  !  !  I  cannot  have  it  till  ten  o'clock,  or  rather,  as 
it  chanced,  till  past  eleven,  when  I  got  the  paper  for  which  I  waited.1 
We  lunched  at  Hawick,  and  concluded  our  pilgrimage  at  Abbotsford 
about  nine  at  night,  where  the  joyful  barking  of  the  dogs,  with  the 
sight  of  the  kind  familiar  faces  of  our  domestics,  gave  us  welcome, 
and  I  enjoyed  a  sound  repose  on  my  own  bed.  I  remark  that  in  this 
journey  I  have  never  once  experienced  depression  of  spirits,  or  the 
tremor  cordis  of  which  I  have  sometimes  such  unpleasant  visits.  Dis- 
sipation, and  a  succession  of  trifling  engagements,  prevent  the  mind 
from  throwing  itself  out  in  the  manner  calculated  to  exhaust  the 
owner,  and  to  entertain  other  people.  There  is  a  lesson  in  this. 

June  3,  [Abbotsford]. — This  was  a  very  idle  day.  I  waked  to  walk 
about  my  beautiful  young  woods  with  old  Tom  and  the  dogs.  The 
sun  shone  bright,  and  the  wind  fanned  my  cheek  as  if  it  were  a  wel- 
coming. I  did  not  do  the  least  right  thing,  except  packing  a  few 
books  necessary  for  writing  the  continuation  of  the  Tales.  In  this 
merry  mood  I  wandered  as  far  as  Huntly  Burn,  where  I  found  the 

i  About  this  time  Miss  Anne  Scott  wrote  to  told  there  could  be  no  doubt,  was  troubled  with 

Mrs.  Lockhart:  "  Early  in  the  morning,  before  a  fit  of  coughing,  which  ended  in  a  laugh.    The 

we  started,  papa  took  me  with  him  to  the  Ca-  man  seemed  exceeding  indignant ;  so,  when 

thedral.    This  he  had  done  often  before;  but  papa  moved  on.  I  whispered  who  it  was.     I 

he  said  he  must  stand  once  more  on  the  spot  wish  you  had  seen  the  man's  start,  and  how  he 

where  he  married  poor  mamma.     After  that  stared  and  bowed  as  he  parted  from  us;  and 

we  went  to  the  Castle,  where  a  new  showman  then  rammed  his  keys  into  his  pocket  and 

went  through  the  old  trick  of  pointing  out  Fer-  went  off  at  a  hand-gallop  to  warn  the  rest  of 

gus  Maclvor's  very  dungeon.   Peveril  said, 'In-  the  garrison.     But  the  carriage  was  ready,  and 

deed,  are  you  quite  sure,  sir?'    And  on  being  we  escaped  a  row. "— Life,  vol.  is.  pp.  256-7. 


JUNE,  1828.J  JOURNAL  405 

Miss  Fergusons  well  and  nappy ;  then  I  sauntered  back  to  Abbots- 
ford,  sitting  on  every  bench  by  the  way,  and  thus 

"It  grew  to  dinner  in  conclusion." 

A  good  appetite  made  my  simple  meal  relish  better  than  the  magnifi- 
cent cheer  which  I  have  lately  partaken  of.  I  smoked  a  cigar,  slept 
away  an  hour,  and  read  Mure  of  Auchendrane's  trial,  and  thus  ended 
the  day.  I  cannot  afford  to  spend  many  such,  nor  would  they  seem 
so  pleasant. 

June  4,  [Edinburgh^. — The  former  part  of  this  day  was  employed 
much  as  yesterday,  but  some  packing  was  inevitable.  Will  Laidlaw 
came  to  dinner,  of  which  we  partook  at  three  o'clock.  Started  at 
half-past  four,  and  arrived  at  home,  if  we  must  call  it  so,  at  nine 
o'clock  in  the  evening.  I  employed  my  leisure  in  the  chaise  to  pe- 
ruse Mure  of  Auchendrane's  trial,  out  of  which  something  might  be 
coopered  up  for  the  public.1  It  is  one  of  the  wildest  stories  I  ever 
read.  Something  might  surely  be  twisted  out  of  it. 

June  5. — Cadell  breakfasted ;  in  great  spirits  with  the  success  of 
the  Fair  Maid  of  Perth.  A  disappointment  being  always  to  be  ap- 
prehended, I  too  am  greatly  pleased  that  the  evil  day  is  adjourned, 
for  the  time  must  come — and  yet  I  can  spin  a  tough  yarn  still  with 
any  one  now  going. 

I  was  much  distressed  to  find  that  the  last  of  the  Macdonald  Bu- 
chanans, a  fine  lad  of  about  twenty -one,  is  now  decidedly  infected  by 
the  same  pulmonary  complaint  which  carried  off  his  four  brothers  in 
succession.  This  is  indeed  a  cruel  stroke,  and  it  is  melancholy  to  wit- 
ness the  undaunted  Highland  courage  of  the  father. 

I  went  to  Court,  and  when  I  returned  did  some  work  upon  the 
Tales. 

"  And  now  again,  boys,  to  the  oar." 

June  6. — I  have  determined  to  work  sans  intermission  for  lost 
time,  and  to  make  up  at  least  my  task  every  day.  J.  Gibson  called 
on  me  with  good  hopes  that  the  trustees  will  authorise  the  grand  opus 
to  be  set  afloat.5  They  are  scrupulous  a  little  about  the  expense  of 
engravings,  but  I  fear  the  taste  of  the  town  will  not  be  satisfied  with- 
out them.  It  is  time  these  things  were  settled.  I  wrought  both  be- 
fore and  after  dinner,  and  finished  five  pages,  which  is  two  above 
bargain. 

June  7. — Saturday  was  another  working  day,  and  nothing  oc- 
curred to  disturb  me. 

June  8. — I  finished  five  sheets  this  day.  Will  Clerk  and  Francis 
Scott  of  Harden  came  to  dinner,  and  we  spent  a  pleasant  evening. 

1  See  The  Doom  of  Devorgoil :  A  Afelo-Dra-  Waverley  Novels  in  48  vols. ,  which  began  to  be 

ma.  Auchendrane  :  or  the  Ayrshire  Tragedy.  issued  in  June,  1829.  The  great  cost  of  the 

Published  by  Cadell  in  8vo,  1830.  publication  naturally  caused  the  Trustees  much 

-  Referring  to  the  uniform  edition  of  the  anxiety  at  this  period. 


406  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

June  9.: — I  laboured  till  about  one,  and  was  then  obliged  to  go  to 
attend  a  meeting  of  the  Oil  Gas  Company, — as  I  devoutly  hope  for 
the  last  time. 

After  that  I  was  obliged  to  go  to  sit  to  Colvin  Smith,  which  is  an 
atrocious  bore,  but  cannot  be  helped.1 

Cadell  rendered  me  report  of  accounts  paid  for  me  with  vouchers, 
which  very  nearly  puts  me  out  of  all  shop  debts.  God  grant  me  grace 
to  keep  so ! 

June  10-14. — During  these  five  days  almost  nothing  occurred  to 
diversify  the  ordinary  task  of  the  day,  which,  I  must  own,  was  dull 
enough.  I  rose  to  my  task  by  seven,  and,  less  or  more,  wrought  it 
out  in  the  course  of  the  day,  far  exceeding  the  ordinary  average  of 
three  leaves  per  day.  I  have  attended  the  Parliament  House  with 
the  most  strict  regularity,  and  returned  to  dine  alone  with  Anne. 
Also,  I  gave  three  sittings  to  Mr.  Cofvin  Smith,  who  I  think  has  im- 
proved since  I  saw  him. 

Of  important  intelligence  nothing  occurs  save  the  termination  of 
all  suspense  on  the  subject  of  poor  James  Macdonald  Buchanan.  He 
died  at  Malta.  The  celebrated  Dugald  Stewart  is  also  dead,  famous 
for  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  history  and  philosophy  of  the 
human  mind.  There  is  much  of  water-painting  in  all  metaphysics, 
which  consist  rather  of  words  than  ideas.  But  Stewart  was  most  im- 
pressive and  eloquent.  In  former  days  I  was  frequently  with  him, 
but  not  for  many  years.  Latterly,  I  am  told,  he  had  lost  not  the 
power  of  thinking,  but  the  power  of  expressing  his  thoughts  by 
speech.  This  is  like  the  Metamorphosis  of  Ovid,  the  bark  binding 
in  and  hardening  the  living  flesh. 

June  15. — W.  Clerk,  Francis  Scott,  and  Charles  Sharpe  dined  with 
me,  but  my  task  had  been  concluded  before  dinner. 

June  16. — Dined  at  Dalmahoy,  with  the  young  Earl  and  Countess 
of  Morton.  I  like  these  young  noble  folks  particularly  well.  Their 
manners  and  style  of  living  are  easy  and  unaffected,  and  I  should  like 
to  see  them  often.  Came  home  at  night.  The  task  finished  to-day. 
I  should  mention  that  the  plan  about  the  new  edition  of  the  novels 
was  considered  at  a  meeting  of  trustees,  and  finally  approved  of.  I 
trust  it  will  answer ;  yet,  who  can  warrant  the  continuance  of  popu- 
larity? Old  Corri,4  who  entered  into  many  projects,  and  could 
never  set  the  sails  of  a  wind-mill  so  as  to  catch  the  aura  popular/*, 
used  to  say  that  he  believed  that  were  he  to  turn  baker,  it  would 
put  bread  out  of  fashion.  I  have  had  the  better  luck  to  dress  my 
sails  to  every  wind ;  and  so  blow  on,  good  wind,  and  spin  round, 
whirligig. 

June  17. — Violent  rheumatic  headache  all  day.  Wrought,  how- 
ever. But  what  difference  this  troublesome  addition  may  make  on 

1  Ante,  p.  351,  February  2d.  tried  to  set  up  an  Italian  opera.     In  conjunc- 

a  Natali  Corri,  born  in  Italy,  but  settled  in      tion  with  a  brother  he  published  several  mu- 
Edinburgh,  where,  among  other  schemes,  he      sical  works.     He  died  at  Trieste  in  1823. 


1828.J  JOURNAL  407 

the  quality  of  the  stuff  produced,  truly  I  do  not  know.  I  finished 
five  leaves. 

June  1 8. — Some  Italian  gentlemen  landed  here,  under  the  convey- 
ance of  the  Misses  Haig  of  Bemerside.  They  were  gentlemanlike 
men ;  but  as  I  did  not  dare  to  speak  bad  French,  I  had  not  much  to 
say  to  foreigners.  Gave  them  and  their  pretty  guides  a  good  break- 
fast, however.  The  scene  seemed  to  me  to  resemble  Sheridan's  scene 
in  the  Critic.1  There  are  a  number  of  very  civil  gentlemen  trying  to 
make  themselves  understood,  and  I  do  not  know  which  is  the  inter- 
preter. After  all,  it  is  not  my  fault.  They  who  wish  to  see  me 
should  be  able  to  speak  my  language.  I  called  on  Mrs.  Stewart 
Mackenzie.  She  received  me  with  all  the  kindness  of  former  days, 
and  I  was  delighted  to  see  her.  I  sat  about  an  hour  with  her.  My 
head  aches,  for  all  that,  and  I  have  heavy  fits  of  drowsiness.  Well,  I 
have  finished  my  task,  and  have  a  right  to  sleep  if  I  have  a  mind.  I 
dine  to  day  with  Lord  Mackenzie,  where  I  hope  to  meet  Mrs.  Stewart 
Mackenzie  again,  for  I  love  her  warm  heart  and  lively  fancy.  Ac- 
cordingly I  enjoyed  this  pleasure.2 

June  19. — Scribbled  away  lustily.  Went  to  the  P.  H.  Wrote 
when  I  came  home,  both  before  and  after  dinner — that's  all,  I  think. 
I  am  become  a  sort  of  writing  automaton,  and  truly  the  joints  of  my 
knees,  especially  the  left,  are  so  stiff  and  painful  in  rising  and  sitting 
down,  that  I  can  hardly  help  screaming — I  that  was  so  robust  and  ac- 
tive ;  I  get  into  a  carriage  with  great  difficulty.  My  head,  too,  is 
bothered  with  rheumatic  headaches.  Why  not  ?  I  got  headaches  by 
my  folly  when  I  was  young,  and  now  I  am  old  they  come  uncalled. 
Infirmity  gives  what  indiscretion  bought. 

June  20. — My  course  is  still  the  same.  But  I  have  a  painful  let- 
ter from  Lockhart,  which  takes  away  the  last  hope  of  poor  Johnnie's 
recovery.  It  is  no  surprise  to  me.  The  poor  child,  so  amiable  in  its 
disposition,  and  so  promising  from  its  talents,  was  not  formed  to  be 
long  with  us,  and  I  have  long  expected  that  it  must  needs  come  to 
this.  I  hope  I  shall  not  outlive  my  children  in  other  cases,  and  I 
think  there  is  little  chance  of  it.  My  father  did  not  long  survive  the 
threescore  and  ten ;  it  will  be  wonderful  if  I  reach  that  goal  of  ordi- 
nary mortality.  God  send  it  may  find  me  prepared  ;  and,  whatever  I 
may  have  been  formerly,  high  spirits  are  not  now  like  to  carry  me  away. 

June  21. — At  Court,  and  called  on  Ballantyne  on  my  return.     I 

1  See  Act  n.  Sc.  2.    The  Italian  family's  morning  call. 

2  "  And  thou,  gentle  Dame,  who  must  bear  to  thy  grief 
For  thy  clan  and  thy  country  the  cares  of  a  Chief, 
Whom  brief  rolling  moons,  in  six  changes  have  left 
Of  thy  husband,  and  father,  and  brethren  bereft ; 
To  thine  ear  of  affection  how  sad  is  the  hail 
That  salutes  thee,  the  heir  of  the  line  of  Kintail." 

Poetical  Worla,  vol.  Till.  p.  394. 

Mary,  daughter  of  Francis,  Lord  Seaforth,  was  .1.  A.  Stewart,  who  assumed  the  name  of  Mac- 
born  in  Ross  shire  in  1784,  married,  at  Barba-  kenzie.  Mrs.  Stewart  Mackenzie  died  at  Bra- 
does  in  1804,  Sir  Samuel  Hood,  and  left  a  wid-  han  Castle  in  1862;  her  funeral  was  one  of  the 
ow  in  1814.  She  married  again,  in  1817,  Mr.  largest  ever  witnessed  in  the  Xorth. 


408  JOURNAL  [JCNE 

was  obliged  to  go  to  the  Register  Office  at  one,  where  I  waited  near- 
ly an  hour  without  meeting  my  brethren.  But  I  wrote  a  letter  to 
Lockhart  in  the  meantime.  My  niece  Ann  arrived,  to  my  great  satis- 
faction. I  am  glad  that  Anne,  my  daughter,  has  such  a  sensible  and 
clever  companion.  Dined  at  Baron  Hume's. 

June  22. — Wrought.  Had  a  note  frorn^  Ballantyne  complaining 
of  my  manuscript,  and  requesting  me  to  read  it  over.  I  would  give 
£1000  if  I  could;  but  it  would  take  me  longer  to  read  than  to  write. 
I  cannot  trace  my  pieds  de  mouche  but  with  great  labour  and  trouble ; 
so  e'en  take  your  own  share  of  the  burden,  my  old  friend ;  and,  since 
I  cannot  read,  be  thankful  I  can  write.  I  will  look  at  his  proof,  how- 
ever, and  then  be  quiet  and  idle  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.  I  am 
come  to  Charles  the  First's  trial,  and  though  I  have  it  by  heart,  I 
must  refresh  myself  with  a  reading  of  Clarendon.  Charles  Sharpe 
and  Francis  Scott  came  in  the  evening. 

June  23. — This  morning  the  two  Annes  and  I  went  to  Sir  Robert 
Liston  at  Milburn  Tower — a  beautiful  retreat.  The  travels  of  the 
venerable  diplomatist  are  indicated  by  the  various  articles  of  curios- 
ity which  he  has  picked  up  in  different  corners  of  the  world,  and 
put  together  with  much  taste.  The  conservatory  and  gardens  are 
very  fine,  and  contain,  I  suppose,  very  curious  plants ; — I  am  sure, 
hard  names  enough.  But  then  the  little  Gothic  tower,  embowered 
amid  trees  and  bushes,  surrounded  by  these  pleasant  gardens,  offer- 
ing many  a  sunny  walk  for  winter,  many  a  shade  for  summer,  are  in- 
expressibly pleasing.  The  good  old  knight  and  his  lady  are  worthy 
of  it,  for  they  enjoy  it.  The  artificial  piece  of  water  is  a  failure,  like 
most  things  of  the  kind.  The  offices,  without  being  on  an  extrava- 
gant scale,  are  most  substantial ;  the  piggery,  in  particular,  is  quite  a 
palace,  and  the  animals  clean  and  comfortable.  I  think  I  have  caught 
from  them  a  fit  of  piggish  obstinacy.  I  came  at  one,  and  cannot  pre- 
vail upon  myself  to  go  to  work.  I  answer  the  calls  of  duty  as  Cali- 
ban does  those  of  Prospero,  "  There's  wood  enough  within."  To  be 
sure,  I  have  not  got  the  Clarendon. 

June  24. — It  was  my  father's  own  son,  as  John  Hielandman  said, 
who  did  little  both  yesterday  and  to-day — I  mean  little  in  the  way 
of  literary  work,  for,  as  to  positive  work,  I  have  been  writing  letters 
about  Chancery  business  till  I  am  sick  of  it.  There  was  a  long  hear- 
ing, and  while  Jeffrey  exerted  his  eloquence  in  the  Inner  House,  I 
plied  my  eloquence  de  billet  in  the  Library.  So,  on  the  whole,  I  am 
no  bad  boy.  Besides,  the  day  is  not  yet  over. 

June  25. — I  was  surprised  to  hear  that  our  Academy  Rector,  Will- 
iams, has  renounced  the  chair  of  Roman  learning  in  the  new  London 
University.  His  alarm  was  excited  by  the  interest  taken  by  the  pre- 
lates in  opposing  a  High  Church  institution  to  that  desired  by  Mr. 
Brougham.  Both  the  Bishops  and  Williams  have  been  unwise.  The 
former  have  mano2uvred  ill.  They  should,  in  the  outset,  have  taken 
the  establishment  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Whigs,  without  suffering 


1828.J  JOURNAL  409 

them  to  reinforce  themselves  by  support  from  [others].  And  Will- 
iams was  equally  precipitate  in  joining  an  institution  which  a  small 
degree  of  foresight  might  have  assured  him  would  be  opposed  by  his 
spiritual  superiors.  However,  there  he  stands,  deprived  of  his  profes- 
sorship by  his  resignation,  and  of  his  rectorship  by  our  having  en- 
gaged with  a  successor.,  I  think  it  very  doubtful  whether  the  Bish- 
ops will  now  [admit]  him  into  their  alliance.  He  has  in  that  case 
offended  both  parties.  But  if  they  are  wise,  they  will  be  glad  to 
pick  up  the  best  schoolmaster  in  Europe,  though  he  comes  for  the 
present  Graia  ex  urbe.  I  accomplished  more  than  my  task  to-day. 

June  20. — Wrote  a  long  letter  to  Lockhart  about  Williams'  situa- 
tion, saying  how,  by  sitting  betwixt  two  stools,  he 

" Had  fallen  with  heavy  thump 

Upon  his  reverential  rump," 

and  how  the  Bishops  should  pick  him  up  if  they  wanted-their  estab- 
lishment to  succeed.  It  is  an  awkward  position  in  which  Williams 
has  placed  himself.  He  loses  the  AVhig  chair,  and  has  perhaps  no 
chance  of  favour  from  the  High  Church  for  having  been  willing  to 
accept  it.  Even  if  they  now  give^him  promotion,  there  will  be  a 
great  outcry  on  his  having  left  one  institution  to  join  another.  He 
would  be  thick-skinned  if  he  stands  the  clamour.  Yet  he  has  to  all 
appearance  rather  sacrificed  than  advanced  his  interest.  However,  I 
say  again,  the  Bishops  ought  not  to  omit  securing  him. 

Mr.  Macintosh  Mackay  breakfasted  with  me,  modest,  intelligent, 
and  gentle.  '  I  did  my  duty  and  more  in  the  course  of  the  day. 

I  am  vexed  about  Mackay  missing  the  church  of  Cupar  in  Angus. 
It  is  in  the  Crown's  gift,  and  Peel,  finding  that  two  parties  in  the 
town  recommended  two  opposite  candidates,  very  wisely  chose  to  dis- 
appoint them  both,  and  was  desirous  of  bestowing  the  presentation 
on  public  grounds.  I  heard  of  this,  and  applied  to  Mr.  Peel  for  Mac- 
intosh Mackay,  whose  quiet  patience  and  learning  are  accompanied  by 
a  most  excellent  character  as  a  preacher  and  a  clergyman,  but  unhap- 
pily Mr.  Peel  had  previously  put  himself  into  the  hands  of  Sir  George 
Murray,  who  applied  to  Sir  Peter  his  brother,  who  naturally  applied  to 
certain  leaders  of  the  Church  at  Edinburgh,  and  these  reverend  gen- 
tlemen have  recommended  that  the  church  which  the  minister  de- 
sired to  fill  up  on  public  grounds  should  be  bestowed  on  a  boy,1  the 
nephew  of  one  of  their  number,  of  whom  the  best  that  can  be  said  is 
that  nothing  is  known,  since  he  has  only  been  a  few  months  in  orders. 
This  comes  of  kith,  kin,  and  ally,  but  Peel  shall  know  of  it,  and  may 
perhaps  judge  for  himself  another  time. 

June  27. — I  came  out  after  Court  to  Blair  Adam,  with  our  excel- 
lent friend  the  Rev.  John  Thomson  of  Duddingston,  so  modest  and 
so  accomplished ; — delightful  drive  and  passage  at  the  ferry.  We 

1  Patrick  James  Stevenson  was  licensed  in  1825,  and  ordained  in  1828.— Scott's  Fasti,  vol.  vi. 
p.  746. 


410  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

found  at  Blair  Adam  the  C.  C.  and  family,  Admiral  Adam  and  lady, 
James  Thomson  of  Charlton,  and  Miss  T.,Will  Clerk,  and  last,  not  least, 
Lord  Chief-Baron  Shepherd — all  in  high  spirits  for  our  excursions. 

Thomson  described  to  me  a  fine  dungeon  in  the  old  tower  at  Cas- 
sillis  in  Ayrshire.  There  is  an  outer  and  inner  vaulted  [chamber], 
each  secured  with  iron  doors.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  innermost 
are  two  great  stones  or  blocks  to  which  the  staples  and  chains  used 
in  securing  the  prisoners  are  still  attached.  Between  these  stone 
seats  is  an  opening  like  the  mouth  of  a  still  deeper  dungeon.  The 
entrance  descends  like  the  mouth  of  a  draw-well  or  shaft  of  a  mine, 
and  deep  below  is  heard  the  sullen  roar  of  the  river  Doon,  one  branch 
of  which,  passing  through  the  bottom  of  the  shaft,  has  probably 
swept  away  the  body  of  many  a  captive,  whose  body  after  death  may 
have  been  thus  summarily  disposed  of.  I  may  find  use  for  such  a 
place — Story  of  \Kittledarkie\\ 

June  28. — Off  we  go  to  Castle  Campbell  after  breakfast,  i.e.  Will 
Clerk,  Admiral  Adam,  J.  Thomson,  and  myself.  Tremendous  hot  is 
the  day,  and  the  steep  ascent  of  the  Castle,  which  rises  for  two  miles 
up  a  rugged  and  broken  path,  was  fatiguing  enough,  yet  not  so  much 
so  as  the  streets  in  London.  C»tle  Campbell  is  unaltered ;  the  win- 
dow, of  which  the  disjointed  stone  projects  at  an  angle  from  the  wall, 
and  seems  at  the  point  of  falling,  has  still  found  power  to  resist  the 
laws  of  gravitation.  Whoever  built  that  tottering  piece  of  masonry 
has  been  long  in  a  forgotten  grave,  and  yet  what  he  has  made  seems 
to  survive  in  spite  of  nature  itself.  The  curious  cleft  called  Kemp's 
Score,  which  gave  the  garrison  access  to  the  water  in  case  of  siege, 
is  obviously  natural,  but  had  been  improved  by  steps,  now  choked 
up.  A  girl  who  came  with  us  recollected  she  had  shown  me  the  way 
down  to  the  bottom  of  this  terrible  gulf  seven  years  ago.  I  am  not 
able  for  it  now. 

"Wont  to  do  's  awa  frae  me, 
Frae  silly  auld  John  Ochiltree." ' 

June  29. — Being  Sunday  we  kept  about  the  doors,  and  after  two 
took  the  drosky  and  drove  over  the  hill  and  round  by  the  Kiery 
Craigs.  I  should  have  said  Williams  came  out  in  the  morning  to  ask 
my  advice  about  staying  another  year  in  Edinburgh.  I  advised  him 
if  possible  to  gain  a  few  days'  time  till  I  should  hear  from  Lockhart. 
He  has  made  a  pretty  mess  for  himself,  but  if  the  Bishops  are  wise, 
they  may  profit  by  it.  The  sound,  practical  advice  of  Williams  at 
the  first  concoction  would  be  of  the  last  consequence.  I  suspect 
their  systems  of  eating-houses  are  the  most  objectionable  part  of  the 
college  discipline.  When  their  attentions  are  to  be  given  to  the  de- 
partments of  the  cook  and  the  butler,  all  zeal  in  the  nobler  paths  of 
education  is  apt  to  decay. 

»  Ramsay's  Tea-table  Miscellany  (1795),  vol.i.  p.  128. 


1828.]  JOURNAL  411 

Well,  to  return  to  the  woods.  I  think,  notwithstanding  Lord 
Chief-Commissioner's  assiduity,  they  are  in  some  places  too  thick.  I 
saw  a  fine  larch,  felled  seventy-two  years  old,  value  about  five  pounds. 

Hereditary  descent  in  the  Highlands.  A  clergyman  showed  J.  T. 
the  island  of  Inch  Mahome  in  the  Port  of  Monteith,  and  pointed  out 
the  boatman  as  a  remarkable  person,  the  representative  of  the  hered- 
itary gardeners  of  the  Earls  of  Monteith,  while  these  Earls  existed. 
His  son,  a  priggish  boy,  follows  up  the  theme — "  Feyther,  when  Don- 
ald MacCorkindale  dees  will  not  the  family  be  extinct?"  Father — 
"  No ;  I  believe  there  is  a  man  in  Balquhidder  who  takes  up  the  suc- 
cession." 

June  30. — We  made  our  pleasant  excursion  to-day  round  the  hill 
of  Bennarty  par  terre,  and  returned  par  mer.  Our  route  by  land  led 
us  past  Lochore,  where  we  made  a  pause  for  a  few  moments.  Then 
proceeded  to  Ballingray  or  Bingray,  and  so  by  Kirkness,  where  late 
ravages  are  supplied  by  the  force  of  vegetation  down  to  the  shores 
of  Lochleven.  We  embarked  and  went  upon  Saint  Serf's  Island,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  anciently  a  cell  of  the  Culdees.  An  old  pinfold, 
or  rather  a  modern  pinfold,  constructed  out  of  the  ancient  chapel,  is 
all  that  attests  its  former  sanctity.  We  landed  on  Queen  Mary's  Isl- 
and, a  miserable  scene,  considering  the  purpose  for  which  the  Castle 
was  appointed.  And  yet  the  captivity  and  surrender  of  the  Percy 
was  even  a  worse  tale,  since  it  was  an  eternal  blight  on  the  name  of 
Douglas.  Well,  we  got  to  Blair  Adam  in  due  time,  and  our  fine  com- 
pany began  to  separate,  Lord  Chief-Baron  going  off  after  dinner. 
We  had  wine  and  wassail,  and  John  Thomson's  delightful  flute  to 
help  us  through  the  evening. 

Thus  end  the  delectations  of  the  Blair  Adam  Club  for  this  year. 
Mrs.  Thomson  of  Charlton  talks  of  Beaton's  House,  and  other  Fife 
wonders  for  the  next  year,  but  who  knows  what  one  year  may  bring 
forth  ?  Our  Club  has  been  hitherto  fortunate.  It  has  subsisted 
twelve  years. 


JULY 

"Up  iu  the  morning  's  no  for  me."1 
Yet  here  I  am  up  at  five — no  horses  come  from  the  North  Ferry  yet. 

"0  Mr.  Mitchell,  Mr.  Mitchell, 
Your  promises  and  time  keep  stitch  ill." 

July  1,  [Edinl>urgJi\. — Got  home,  however,  by  nine,  and  went  to 
the  Parliament  House,  where  we  were  detained  till  four  o'clock. 

Miss dined  with  us,  a  professed  lion-huntress,  who  travels  the 

country  to  rouse  the  peaceful  beasts  out  of  their  lair,  and  insists  on 
being  hand  and  glove  with  all  the  leonine  race.  She  is  very  plain, 
besides  frightfully  red-haired,  and  out-Lydia-ing  even  my  poor  friend 
Lydia  White.  An  awful  visitation !  I  think  I  see  her  with  javelin 
raised  and  buskined  foot,  a  second  Diana,  roaming  the  hills  of  West- 
moreland in  quest  of  the  lakers.  Would  to  God  she  were  there  or 
anywhere  but  here !  Affectation  is  a  painful  thing  to  witness,  and 
this  poor  woman  has  the  bad  taste  to  think  direct  flattery  is  the  way 
to  make  her  advances  to  friendship  and  intimacy. 

July  2. — I  believe  I  was  cross  yesterday.  I  am  at  any  rate  very 
ill  to-day  with  a  rheumatic  headache,  and  a  still  more  vile  hypochon- 
driacal  affection,  which  fills  my  head  with  pain,  my  heart  with  sad- 
ness, and  my  eyes  with  tears.  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  awful  feelings 
which  visited  men  less  educated  and  less  firm  than  I  may  call  my- 
self. It  is  a  most  hang-dog  cast  of  feeling,  but  it  may  be  chased 
away  ty  study  or  by  exercise.  The  last  I  have  always  found  most 
successful,  but  the  first  is  most  convenient.  I  wrought  therefore,  and 
endured  all  this  forenoon,  being  a  Teind  Wednesday.  I  am  now  in 
such  a  state  that  I  would  hardly  be  surprised  at  the  worst  news  which 
could  be  brought  to  me.  And  all  this  without  any  rational  cause 
why  to-day  should  be  sadder  than  yesterday. 

Two  things  to  lighten  my  spirits — First,  Cadell  comes  to  assure 
me  that  the  stock  of  12mo  novels  is  diminished  from  3800,  which  was 
the  quantity  in  the  publishers'  hands  in  March  1827,  to  600  or  700. 
This  argues  gallant  room  for  the  publication  of  the  New  Series. 
Second,  said  Cadell  is  setting  off  straight  for  London  to  set  affairs 
a-going.  If  I  have  success  in  this,  it  will  greatly  assist  in  extricating 
my  affairs. 

>  Burns's  Song. 


JULY,  1828.]  JOURNAL  413 

My  aches  of  the  heart  terminated  in  a  cruel  aching  of  the  head — 
rheumatic,  I  suppose.  But  Sir  Adam  and  Clerk  came  to  dinner,  and 
laughed  and  talked  the  sense  of  pain  and  oppression  away.  We  can- 
not at  times  work  ourselves  into  a  gay  humour,  any  more  than  we  can 
tickle  ourselves  into  a  fit  of  laughter ;  foreign  agency  is  necessary. 
My  huntress  of  lions  again  dined  with  us.  I  have  subscribed  to  her 
Album,  and  done  what  was  civil. 

July  3. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning,  and  wrote  a  little.  I 
was  forced  to  crop  vol.  i.  as  thirty  pages  too  long  ;  there  is  the  less 
to  write  behind.  We  were  kept  late  at  the  Court,  and  when  I  came 
out  I  bethought  me,  like  Christian  in  the  Castle  of  Giant  Despair, 
"  Wherefore  should  I  walk  along  the  broiling  and  stifling  streets 
when  I  have  a  little  key  in  my  bosom  which  can  open  any  lock  in 
Princes  Street  Walks,  and  be  thus  on  the  Castle  banks,  rocks,  and 
trees  in  a  few  minutes  ?"  I  made  use  of  my  key  accordingly,  and 
walked  from  the  Castle  Hill  down  to  Wallace's  Tower,1  and  thence  to 
the  west  end  of  Princes  Street,  through  a  scene  of  grandeur  and 
beauty  perhaps  unequalled,  whether  the  foreground  or  distant  view  is 
considered — all  down  hill,  too.  Foolish  never  to  think  of  this  be- 
fore. I  chatted  with  the  girls  a  good  while  after  dinner,  but  wrote  a 
trifle  when  we  had  tea. 

July  4. — The  two  Annes  set  off  to  Abbotsford,  though  the 
weather  was  somewhat  lowering  for  an  open  carriage,  but  the  day 
cleared  up  finely.  Hamilton  is  unwell,  so  we  had  a  long  hearing  of 
his  on  our  hands.  It  was  four  ere  I  got  home,  but  I  had  taken  my 
newly  discovered  path  by  rock,  bush,  and  ruin.  I  question  if  Europe 
has  such  another  path.  We  owe  this  to  the  taste  of  James  Skene. 
But  I  must  dress  to  go  to  Dr.  Hope's,  who  makes  chere  exquise,  and 
does  not  understand  being  kept  late. 

July  5. — Saturday,  corrected  proofs  and  Wrought  hard.  Went 
out  to  dinner  at  Oxenfoord  Castle,  and  returned  in  the  company  of 
Lord  Alloway,  Chief  Baron,  Clerk,  etc.,  and  Mr.  Bouverie,  the  English 
Commissioner. 

July  6. — A  day  of  hard  work.  The  second  volume  is  now  well 
advanced — wellnigh  one  half.  Dined  alone,  and  pursued  my  course 
after  dinner.  Seven  pages  were  finished.  Solitude  's  a  fine  thing 
for  work,  but  then  you  must  lie  by  like  a  spider,  till  you  collect 
materials  to  continue  your  web.  Began  Simond's  Switzerland — 
clever  and  intelligent,  but  rather  conceited,  as  the  manner  of  an 
American  Frenchman.  I  hope  to  knock  something  out  of  him 
though. 

July  7. — Williams  seems  in  uncertainty  again,  and  I  can't  guess 
what  he  will  be  at.  Surely  it  is  a  misery  to  be  so  indecisive ;  he 
will  certainly  gain  the  ill  word  of  both  parties  and  might  have  had 
the  good  word  of  all ;  and,  indeed,  deserves  it.  We  received  his  res- 

1  Now  called  Wellhouse  Tower. 


414  JOURNAL  [JULY,  1828. 

ignation  to-day,  but  if  the  King's  College  are  disposed  to  thrive,  they 
will  keep  eyes  on  this  very  able  man. 

July  8. — Hard  work  in  the  Court,  the  sedcrunts  turn  long  and 
burthensome.     I  fear  they  will  require  some  abridgment  of  vacation. 

[From  July  8,  1828,  to  January  10,  1829,  there  are  no  entries  in 
the  Journal.] 


1829.—  JANUARY 

HAVING  omitted  to  carry  on  my  Diary  for  two  or  three  days,  I 
lost  heart  to  make  itAip,  and  left  it  unfilled  for  many  a  month  and 
day.  During  this  period  nothing  has  happened  worth  particular  no- 
tice. The  same  occupations,  the  same  amusements,  the  same  occa- 
sional alternations  of  spirits,  gay  or  depressed,  the  same  absence  of  all 
sensible  or  rational  cause  for  the  one  or  the  other.  I  half  grieve  to 
take  up  my  pen,  and  doubt  if  it  is  worth  while  to  record  such  an  in- 
finite quantity  of  nothing,  but  hang  it !  I  hate  to  be  beat,  so  here  goes 
for  better  behaviour. 

January  10. — I  resume  my  task  at  Abbotsford.  We  are  here 
alone,  except  Lockhart,  on  a  flying  visit.  Morritt,  his  niece,  Sir  James 
Stuart,  Skcne,  and  an  occasional  friend  or  two,  have  been  my  guests 
since  31st  December.  I  cannot  say  I  have  been  happy,  for  the  feel- 
ing of  increasing  weakness  in  my  lame  leg  is  a  great  affliction.  I 
walk  now  with  pain  and  difficulty  at  all  times,  and  it  sinks  my  soul  to 
think  how  soon  I  may  be  altogether  a  disabled  cripple.  I  am  tedious 
to  my  friends,  and  I  doubt  the  sense  of  it  makes  me  fretful. 

Everything  else  goes  off  well  enough.  My  cash  affairs  are  clear- 
ing, and  though  last  year  was  an  expensive  one,  I  have  been  paying 
debt.  Yet  I  have  a  dull  contest  before  me  which  will  probably  out- 
last my  life.  If  well  maintained,  however,  it  will  be  an  honourable 
one,  and  if  the  Magnum  Opus  succeed,  it  will  afford  me  some  re- 
pose. 

January  11. — I  did  not  write  above  a  page  yesterday;  most  weary, 
stale,  and  unprofitable  have  been  my  labours.  Received  a  letter  I 

suppose  from  Mad.  T. ,  proposing  a  string  of  historical  subjects 

not  proper  for  my  purpose.  People  will  not  consider  that  a  thing 
may  already  be  so  well  told  in  history,  that  romance  ought  not  in 
prudence  to  meddle  with  it. 

The  ground  covered  with  snow,  which,  by  slipperiness  and  the 
pain  occasioned  by  my  lameness,  renders  walking  unpleasant. 

January  12. — This  is  the  third  day  I  have  not  walked  out,  pain 
and  lameness  being  the  cause.  This  bodes  very  ill  for-  my  future  life. 
I  made  a  search  yesterday  and  to-day  for  letters  of  Lord  Byron  to 
send  to  Tom  Moore,  but  I  could  only  find  two.  I  had  several  others, 
and  am  shocked  at  missing  them.  The  one  which  he  sent  me  with  a 
silver  cup  I  regret  particularly.  It  was  stolen  out  of  the  cup  itself 
by  some  vile  inhospitable  scoundrel,  for  a  servant  would  not  have 
thought  such  a  theft  worth  while. 


416  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

My  spirits  are  low,  yet  I  wot  not  why.  I  have  been  writing  to 
my  sons.  Walter's  majority  was  like  to  be  reduced,  but  is  spared  for 
the  present.  Charles  is  going  on  well  I  trust  at  the  Foreign  Office, 
so  I  hope  all  is  well. 

Loitered  out  a  useless  day,  half  arranging  half  disarranging 
books  and  papers,  and  packing  the  things  I  shall  want.  Der  Abschied- 
stag  ist  da. 

January  13. — The  day  of  return  to  Edinburgh  is  come.  I  don't 
know  why,  but  I  am  more  happy  at  the  change  than  usual.  I  am  not 
working  hard,  and  it  is  what  I  ought  to  do,  and  must  do.  Every  hour 
of  laziness  cries  fie  upon  me.  But  there  is  a  perplexing  sinking  of 
the  heart  which  one  cannot  always  overcome.  At  such  times  I  have 
wished  myself  a  clerk,  quill-driving  for  twopence  per  page.  You 
have  at  least  application,  and  that  is  all  that  is  necessary,  whereas  un- 
less your  lively  faculties  are  awake  and  propitious,  your  application 
will  do  you  as  little  good  as  if  you  strained  your  sinews  to  lift  Ar- 
thur's Seat. 

January  14,  [Edinburgh]. — Got  home  last  night  after  a  freezing 
journey.  This  morning  I  got  back  some  of  the  last  copy,  and  tugged 
as  hard  as  ever  did  soutar  to  make  ends  meet.  Then  I  will  be  recon- 
ciled to  my  task,  which  at  present  disgusts  me.  Visited  Lady  Jane, 
then  called  on  Mr.  Robison  and  instructed  him  to  call  a  meeting  of 
the  Council  of  the  Royal  Society,  as  Mr.  Knox  proposes  to  read  an 
essay  on  some  dissections.  A  bold  proposal  truly  from  one  who  has 
had  so  lately  the  boldness  of  trading  so  deep  in  human  flesh !  I  will 
oppose  his  reading  in  the  present  circumstances  if  I  should  stand 
alone,  but  I  hope  he  will  be  wrought  upon  to  withdraw  his  essay  or 
postpone  it  at  least.  It  is  very  bad  taste  to  push  himself  forward 
just  now.  Lockhart  dined  with  us,  which  made  the  evening  a  pleas- 
ant but  an  idle  one.  Well !  I  must  rouse  myself. 

"Awake!    Arise,  or  be  for  ever  fallen."  ' 

January  15. — Day  began  with  beggars  as  usual,  and  John  Nicol- 
son  has  not  sense  to  keep  them  out.  I  never  yield,  however,  to  this 
importunity,  thinking  it  wrong  that  what  I  can  spare  to  meritorious 
poverty,  of  which  I  hear  and  see  too  much,  should  be  diverted  by  im- 
pudent importunity.  I  was  detained  at  the  Parliament  House  till 
nearly  three  by  the  great  case  concerning  prescription,  Maule  v.  Maule.8 
This  was  made  up  to  me  by  hearing  an  excellent  opinion  from  Lord 
Corehouse,  with  a  curious  discussion  in  apicibus  juris.  I  disappoint- 
ed Graham*  of  a  sitting  for  my  picture.  I  went  to  the  Council  of  the 

1  Milton's  Paradise  Lott,  Bk.  i.  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh.     When  the 

2  «™  no«,«,    •„  n™,.«  „«•  o^c.-™  ™i  ,.-•   o       portrait  was  finished  it  was  placed  in  the  rooms 
•  See  Cases  m  Court  of  Session,  vol.  v...  S.      £f  thc  goc,et     whero  u  sti,fhangs.    The  arlist 

retained  in  his  own  collection  a  duplicate,  with 

3  John  Graham,  who  afterwards  assumed  the      some  slight  variations,  which  his  widow  pre- 
name  of  Gilbert;  born  1794,  died  1866.  sented  to  the  National  Portrait  Gallery,  Lon- 

He  was  at  this  time  painting  Sir  Walter  for      don,  in  1867. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  417 

Royal  Society,  which  was  convened  at  my  request,  to  consider  whether 
we  ought  to  hear  a  paper  on  anatomical  subjects  read  by  Mr.  Knox, 
whose  name  has  of  late  been  deeply  implicated  in  a  criminal  prosecu- 
tion against  certain  wretches,  who  had  murdered  many  persons  and 
sold  their  bodies  to  professors  of  the  anatomical  science.  Some 
thought  that  our  declining  to  receive  the  paper  would  be  a  declaration 
unfavourable  to  Dr.  Knox.  I  think  hearing  it  before  Mr.  Knox  has 
made  any  defence  (as  he  is  stated  to  have  in  view)  would  be  an  inti- 
mation of  our  preference  of  the  cause  of  science  to  those  of  morality 
and  common  humanity.  Mr.  Knox's  friends  undertook  to  deal  with 
him  about  suffering  the  paper  to  be  omitted  for  the  present,  while 
adhuc  coram  judice  Us  est.1 

January  16. — Nothing  on  the  roll  to-day,  so  I  did  not  go  to  the 
Parliament  House,  but  fagged  at  my  desk  till  two.  Dr.  Ross  called 
to  relieve  me  of  a  corn,  which,  though  my  lameness  needs  lio  addi- 
tion, had  tormented  me  vilely.  I  again  met  the  Royal  Society  Coun- 
cil. Dr.  Knox  consents  to  withdraw  his  paper,  or  rather  suffers  the 
reading  to  be  postponed.  There  is  some  great  error  in  the  law  on 
the  subject.  If  it  was  left  to  itself  many  bodies  would  be  imported 
from  France  and  Ireland,  and  doubtless  many  would  be  found  in  our 
hospitals  for  the  service  of  the  anatomical  science.  But  the  total  and 
severe  exclusion  of  foreign  supplies  of  this  kind  raises  the  price  of 
the  "  subjects,"  as  they  are  called  technically,  to  such  a  height,  that 
wretches  are  found  willing  to  break  into  "the  bloody  house  of  life,"1 
merely  to  supply  the  anatomists'  table.  The  law  which,  as  a  deeper 
sentence  on  the  guilt  of  murder,  declares  that  the  body  of  the  con- 
victed criminal  should  be  given  up  to  anatomy,  is  certainly  not  with- 
out effect,  for  criminals  have  been  known  to  shrink  from  that  part  of 
the  sentence  which  seems  to  affect  them  more  than  the  doom  of  death 
itself,  with  all  its  terrors  here  and  hereafter.  On  the  other  hand, 
while  this  idea  of  the  infamy  attending  the  exposition  of  the  person 
is  thus  recognised  by  the  law,  it  is  impossible  to  adopt  regulations 
which  would  effectually  prevent  such  horrid  crimes  as  the  murder  of 

i  Sir  Walter,  in  common  with  the  majority  was  specially  directed.    But,  tried  in  reference 

of  his  contemporaries,  evidently  believed  that  to  the  invariable  and  the  necessary  practice  of 

Dr.  Robert  Kuox  was  partly  responsible  for  the  the  profession,  our  anatomists  were  spotlessly 

West  Port  atrocities,  but  it  is  only  just  to  the  correct,  and  Knox  the  most  correct  of  them 

memory  of  the  talented  anatomist  to  say  that  all." 

an  independent  and  influential  committee,  after  At  this  date  Dr.  Knox  was  the  most  popular 

a  careful  examination,  reported  on  March  13th,  teacher  in  the  Medical  School  at  Edinburgh, 

1829,  that  there  was  no  evidence  showing  that  and  as  his  class  room  could  not  contain  more 

he  or  his  assistants  knew  that  murder  had  been  than  a  third  of  his  students,  he  had  to  deliver 

committed,  but  the  committee  thought  that  his  lectures  twice  or  thrice  daily.    The  odium 

more  care  should  have  been  exercised  in  the  attached  to  his  name  might  have  been  removed 

reception  of  the  bodies  at  the  Anatomical  Class-  in  time  had  his  personal  character  stood  as 

room.  high  as  his  professional  ability,  but  though  he 

Lord  Cockburn,  who  was  one  of  the  counsel  remained  in  Edinburgh  until  1841  he  never 

at  the  trial  of  Burke,  in  writing  of  these  events,  recovered  his  position  there,  and  for  the  last 

remarks:  "All  our  anatomists  incurred  a  most  twenty  years  of  his  life  this  once  brilliant 

unjust  and  very  alarming,  though  not  an  uu-  teacher  subsisted  as  best  he  could  in  London 

natural,  odium;  Dr.  Knox  in  particular,  against  by  his  pen.  and  as  an  itinerant  lecturer.    He 

whom  not  only  the  anger  of  the  populace,  but  died  in  1802. 

the  condemnation  of  more  intelligent. persons,  a  King  John,  Act  iv.  So.  2. 
27 


418  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

vagrant  wretches  who  can  be  snatched  from  society  without  their  be- 
ing missed,  as  in  the  case  of  the  late  conspiracy.  For  instance,  if  it 
was  now  to  be  enacted,  as  seems  reasonable,  that  persons  dying  in 
hospitals  and  almshouses,  who  die  without  their  friends  claiming  their 
remains,  should  be  given  up  to  the  men  of  science,  this  would  be  sub- 
jecting poverty  to  the  penalty  of  these  atrocious  criminals  whom  law 
distinguishes  by  the  heaviest  posthumous  disgrace  which  it  can  in- 
flict. Even  cultivated  minds  revolt  from  the  exposure  on  an  anatom- 
ical table,  when  the  case  is  supposed  to  be  that  of  one  who  is  dear  to 
them.  I  should,  I  am  conscious,  be  willing  that  I  myself  should  be 
dissected  in  public,  if  doing  so  could  produce  any  advantage  to  soci- 
ety, but  when  I  think  on  relations  and  friends  being  rent  from  the 
grave  the  case  is  very  different,  and  I  would  fight  knee-deep  to  pre- 
vent or  punish  such  an  exposure.  So  inconsistent  we  are  all  upon 
matters  of  this  nature. 

I  dined  quietly  at  home  with  the  girls,  and  wrote  after  dinner. 

January  17. — Nothing  in  the  roll ;  corrected  proofs,  and  went  off 
at  12  o'clock  in  the  Hamilton  stage  to  William  Lockhart's  at  Auch- 
inrath.  My  companions,  Mr.  Livingstone,  the  clergyman  of  Cam- 
nethan,  a  Bailie  Hamilton,  the  king  of  trumps,  I  am  told,  in  the 
Burgh  of  Hamilton,  and  a  Mr.  Davie  Martin  qui  gaudet  equis  et  caiti- 
bus.  Got  to  Auchinrath  by  six,  and  met  Lord  Douglas,1  his  brother, 
Captain  Douglas,  R.N.,  John  G.  Lockhart  also,  who  had  a  large  com- 
munication from  Duke  of  W.  upon  the  subject  of  the  bullion.  The 
Duke  scouts  the  economist's  ideas  about  paper  credit,  after  the  prop- 
osition that  all  men  shall  be  entitled  to  require  gold. 

January  18. — We  went,  the  two  Lockharts  and  I,  to  William's 
new  purchase  of  Milton.  We  found  on  his  ground  a  cottage,  where 
a  man  called  Greenshields,2  a  sensible,  powerful-minded  person,  had 
at  twenty-eight  (rather  too  late  a  week) 3  taken  up  the  art  of  sculpt- 
ure. He  had  disposed  of  the  person  of  the  King  most  admirably, 
according  to  my  poor  thoughts,  and  had  attained  a  wonderful  expres- 
sion of  ease  and  majesty  at  the  same  time.  He  was  desirous  of  en- 
gaging on  Burns'  Jolly  Beggars,  which  I  dissuaded.  Caricature  is 
not  the  object  of  sculpture. 

We  went  to  Milton  on  as  fine  a  day  as  could  consist  with  snow  on 
the  ground.  The  situation  is  eminently  beautiful ;  a  fine  promon- 
tory round  which  the  Clyde  makes  a  magnificent  bend.  We  h'xcd  on 
a  situation  where  the  sitting-room  should  command  the  upper  view, 
and,  with  an  ornamental  garden,  I  think  it  may  be  made  the  prettiest 
place  in  Scotland. 

January  19. — Posted  to  Edinburgh  with  John  Lockhart.  We 
stopped  at  Allanton  to  see  a  tree  transplanted,  which  was  performed 
with  great  ease.  Sir  Henry  is  a  sad  coxcomb,  and  lifted  beyond  the 

>  Archibald,  second  Lord  Douglas,  who  died      Sec  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  281-288.    He  died  at  the 
in  1844.  age  of  forty  in  18:15. 

'John   Greenshields.   self-taught   sculptor  3  As  You  Like  It,  Act  11.  Sc.  3. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  419 

solid  earth  by  the  effect  of  his  book's  success.  But  the  book  well 
deserves  it.1  He  is  in  practice  particularly  anxious  to  keep  the  roots 
of  the  tree  near  the  surface,  and  only  covers  them  with  about  a  foot 
of  earth. 

Note. — Lime  rubbish  dug  in  among  the  roots  of  ivy  encourages  it 
much. 

The  operation  delayed  us  three  hours,  so  it  was  seven  o'clock  be- 
fore we  reached  our  dinner  and  a  good  fire  in  Shandwick  Place,  and 
we  were  wellnigh  frozen  to  death.  During  this  excursion  I  walked 
very  ill — with  more  pain,  in  fact,  than  I  ever  remember  to  have  felt — 
and,  even  leaning  on  John  Lockhart,  could  hardly  get  on.  Baad  that, 
vara  baad — it  might  be  the  severe  weather  though,  and  the  numbing 
effect  of  the  sitting  in  the  carriage.  Be  it  what  it  will,  I  can't  help 
myself. 

January  20. — I  had  little  to  do  at  the  Court,  and  returned  home 
soon.  Honest  old  Mr.  Ferrier  is  dead,  at  extreme  old  age.  I  confess 
I  should  not  wish  to  live  so  long.  He  was  a  man  with  strong  pas- 
sions and  strong  prejudices,  but  with  generous  and  manly  sentiments 
at  the  same  time.  We  used  to  call  him  Uncle  Adam,  after  that  char- 
acter in  his  gifted  daughter's  novel  of  the  Heiress  [Inheritance].  I 
wrote  a  long  letter  after  I  came  home  to  my  Lord  Elgin  about  Green- 
shields,  the  sculptor.*  I  am  afraid  he  is  going  into  the  burlesque  line, 
to  which  sculpture  is  peculiarly  ill  adapted.  So  I  have  expressed  my 
veto  to  his  patron,  valeat  quantum.  Also  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Professor 
Sandford  at  Glasgow  about  reprinting  Macaulay's  History  of  St.  Kil- 
da,3  advising  them  to  insert  the  history  of  Lady  Grange  who  was  kid- 
napped and  banished  thither. 

I  corrected  my  proofs,  moreover,  and  prepared  to  dine.  After 
dinner  we  go  to  Euphemia  Erskine's  marriage.  Mr.  Dallas  came  in 
and  presented  me  with  an  old  pedigree  of  the  M'Intoshes.  The  wed- 
ding took  place  with  the  usual  April  weather  of  smiles  and  tears. 
The  bridegroom's  name  is  Dawson.  As  he,  as  well  as  the  bride,  is 
very  tall,  they  have  every  chance  of  bringing  up  a  family  of  giants. 
The  bridegroom  has  an  excellent  character.  He  is  only  a  captain, 
but  economy  does  wonders  in  the  army,  where  there  are  many  facili- 
ties for  practising  it.  I  sincerely  wish  them  happiness. 

January  21. — Went  out  to  Dalkeith.  House  to  dine  and  stay  all 
night.  Found  Marquis  of  Lothian  and  a  family  party.  I  liked  the 
sense  and  spirit  displayed  by  this  young  nobleman,  who  reminds  me 
strongly  of  his  parents,  whom  I  valued  so  highly. 

January  22. — Left  Dalkeith  after  breakfast,  and  gained  the  Par- 
liament House,  where  there  was  almost  nothing  to  do,  at  eleven 
o'clock.  Afterwards  sat  to  Graham,  who  is  making  a  good  thing  of 

i  Sir  Henry  Seton  Stewart's  work  on  Plant-  *  See  letter  in  Life,  vol.  ix.  pp.  281-287. 
ing  was  reviewed  by  Scott  in  the  Quarterly. —  3  Originally  published    in   London   in   8vo, 
Sec  Misc.  Prnse,  Works,  vol.  xxi.      Sir  H.  Steu-  17H4.     This  contemplated  edition  does  not  ap- 
art died  in  March,  1836.  pear  to  have  been  printed. 


420  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

it.  Mr.  Colvin  Smith  has  made  a  better  in  one  sense,  having  sold  ten 
or  twelve  copies  of  the  portrait  to  different  friends.1  The  Solicitor 
came  to  dine  with  me — we  drank  a  bottle  of  champagne,  and  two 
bottles  of  claret,  which,  in  former  days,  I  should  have  thought  a  very 
sober  allowance,  since,  Lockhart  included,  there  were  three  persons  to 
drink  it.  But  I  felt  I  had  drunk  too  much,  and  was  uncomfortable. 
The  young  men  stood  it  like  young  men.  Skene  and  his  wife  and 
daughter  looked  in  in  the  evening.  I  suppose  I  am  turning  to  my 
second  childhood,  for  not  only  am  I  filled  drunk,  or  made  stupid  at 
least,  with  one  bottle  of  wine,  but  I  am  disabled  from  writing  by  chil- 
blains on  my  fingers — a  most  babyish  complaint.  They  say  that  the 
character  is  indicated  by  the  handwriting ;  if  so,  mine  is  crabbed 
enough. 

January  23. — Still  severe  frost,  annoying  to  sore  fingers.  Noth- 
ing on  the  roll.  I  sat  at  home  and  wrote  letters  to  Wilkie,  Landseer, 
Mrs.  Hughes,  Charles,  etc.  Went  out  to  old  Mr.  Ferrier's  funeral,  and 
saw  the  last  duty  rendered  to  my  old  friend,  whose  age  was 

"  Like  a  lusty  winter, 

Frosty,  but  kindly,"  2 

I  mean  in  a  moral  as  well  as  a  physical  sense.  I  then  went  to  Cadcll's 
for  some  few  minutes. 

I  carried  out  Lockhart  to  Dalkeith,  where  we  dined,  supped,  and 
returned  through  a  clinking  frost,  with  snow  on  the  ground.  Lord 
Ramsay  and  the  Miss  Kerrs  were  at  Dalkeith.  The  Duke  shows,  for 
so  young  a  man,  a  great  deal  of  character,  and  seems  to  have  a  proper 
feeling  of  the  part  he  has  to  play.  The  evening  was  pleasant,  but  the 
thought  that  I  was  now  the  visitor  and  friend  of  the  family  in  the 
third  generation  lay  somewhat  heavy  on  me.  Everything  around  me 
seemed  to  say  that  beauty,  power,  wealth,  honour  were  but  things  of 
a  day. 

January  24. — Heavy  fall  of  snow.  Lockhart  is  off  in  the  mail. 
I  hope  he  will  not  be  blockaded.  The  day  bitter  cold.  I  went  to 
the  Court,  and  with  great  difficulty  returned  along  the  slippery  street. 
I  ought  to  have  taken  the  carriage,  but  I  have  a  superstitious  dread 
of  giving  up  the  habit  of  walking,  and  would  willingly  stick  to  the 
last  by  my  old  hardy  customs. 

Little  but  trifles  to  do  at  the  Court.  My  hands  are  so  covered 
with  chilblains  that  I  can  hardly  use  a  pen — my  feet  ditto. 

We  bowled  away  at  six  o'clock  to  Mr.Wardlaw  Ramsay's.  Found 
we  were  a  week  too  early,  and  went  back  as  if  our  noses  had  been 
bleeding. 

January  25. — Worked  seriously  all  morning,  expecting  the  Fer- 
gusons to  dinner.  Alas !  instead  of  that,  I  learn  that  my  poor  in- 
nocent friend  Mary  is  no  more.  She  was  a  person  of  some  odd  and 

'  Ante,  p.  351  n.  a  As  You  Like  It,  Act  n.  So.  3. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  421 

peculiar  habits,  wore  a  singular  dress,  and  affected  wild  and  solitary 
haunts,  but  she  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  woman  of  talent,  and  even 
genius.  She  used  often  to  take  long  walks  with  me  up  through  the 
glens ;  and  I  believe  her  sincere  good  wishes  attended  me,  as  I  was 
always  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  show  her  kindness.  I  shall  long 
think  of  her  when  at  Abbotsford.  This  sad  event  breaks  up  our 
little  party.  Will  Clerk  came,  however,  and  his  tete -a- tete  was,  of 
course,  interesting  and  amusing  in  the  highest  degree.  We  drank 
some  whisky  and  water,  and  smoked  a  .cigar  or  two,  till  nine  at 
night. 

"  No  after  friendships  ere  can  raise 
The  endearments  of  our  early  days." 

January  26. — I  muzzed  on — I  can  call  it  little  better — with  Anne 
of  Geierstein.  The  materials  are  excellent,  but  the  power  of  using 
them  is  failing.  Yet  I  wrote  out  about  three  pages,  sleeping  at  in- 
tervals. 

January  2V. — A  great  and  general  thaw,  the  streets  afloat,  the 
snow  descending  on  one's  head  from  the  roofs.  Went  to  the  Court. 
There  was  little  to  do.  Left  about  twelve,  and  took  a  sitting  with 
Graham,  who  begs  for  another.  Sir  James  Stuart  stood  bottle-holder 
on  this  occasion.  Had  rather  an  unfavourable  account  of  the  pictures 
of  James  Stuart  of  Dunearn,  which  are  to  be  sold.  I  had  promised 
to  pick  up  one  or  two  for  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch.  Came  home  and 
wrote  a  leaf  or  two.  I  shall  be  soon  done  with  the  second  volume  of 
Anne  of  Geierstein.  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  the  obvious  risk  of 
satisfying  the  public,  although  I  cannot  so  well  satisfy  myself.  I  am 
like  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  old  Merrythought  who  could  not  be  per- 
suaded that  there  was  a  chance  of  his  wanting  meat.  I  never  came 
into  my  parlour,  said  he,  but  I  found  the  cloth  laid  and  dinner  ready ; 
surely  it  will  be  always  thus.  Use  makes  perfectness.1 

My  reflections  are  of  the  same  kind ;  and  if  they  are  unlogical 
they  are  perhaps  not  the  less  comfortable.  Fretting  and  struggling 
does  no  good.  Wrote  to  Miss  Margaret  Ferguson  a  letter  of  condo- 
lence. 

January  28. — Breakfasted,  for  a  wonder,  abroad  with  Hay  Drum- 
mond,  whose  wife  appears  a  pretty  and  agreeable  little  woman.  We 
worshipped  his  tutelar  deity,  the  Hercules,  and  saw  a  good  model  of 
the  Hercules  Bibax,  or  the  drunken  Hercules.  Graham  and  Sir  James 
Stuart  were  there.  Home-baked  bread  and  soldier's  coffee  were  the 
treat.  I  came  home  ;  and  Sir  Robert  Dundas  having  taken  my  duty 
at  the  Court,  I  wrote  for  some  time,  but  not  much.  Burke  the  mur- 
derer hanged  this  morning.  The  mob,  which  was  immense,  demanded 
Knox  and  Hare,  but  though  greedy  for  more  victims,  received  with 
shouts  the  solitary  wretch  who  found  his  way  to  the  gallows  out  of 

'  See  Beaumont  ami  Fletcher.  Knight  of  the  Burning  Fettle,  Act  1.  Sc.  3. 


422  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

five  or  six  who  seem  not  less  guilty  than  he.  But  the  story  begins 
to  be  stale,  although  I  believe  a  doggerel  ballad  upon  it  would  be 
popular,  how  brutal  soever  the  wit.  This  is  the  progress  of  human 
passions.  We  ejaculate,  exclaim,  hold  up  to  Heaven  our  hand,  like 
the  rustic  Phidyle1 — next  morning  the  mood  changes,  and  we  dance 
a  jig  to  the  tune  which  moved  us  to  tears.  Mr.  Bell  sends  me  a 
specimen  of  a  historical  novel,  but  he  goes  not  the  way  to  write  it ; 
he  is  too  general,  and  not  sufficiently  minute.  It  is  not  easy  to  con- 
vey this  to  an  author,  with  the  necessary  attention  to  his  feelings ; 
and  yet,  in  good  faith  and  sincerity,  it  must  be  .done. 

January  29. — I  had  a  vacant  day  once  more  by  the  kindness  of 
Sir  Robert,  unasked,  but  most  kindly  afforded.  I  have  not  employed 
it  to  much  purpose.  I  wrote  six  pages  to  Croker,2  who  is  busied  with 
a  new  edition  of  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  to  which  most  entertain- 
ing book  he  hopes  to  make  large  additions  from  Mrs.  Piozzi,  Haw- 
kins and  other  sources.  I  am  bound  by  many  obligations  to  do  as 
much  for  him  as  I  can,  which  can  only  respect  the  Scottish  Tour. 
I  wrote  only  two  or  three  pages  of  Anne.  I  am 

" as  one  who  in  a  darksome  way 

Doth  walk  with  fear  and  dread." 

But  walk  I  must,  and  walk  forward  too,  or  I  shall  be  benighted  with 
a  vengeance.  After  dinner,  to  compromise  matters  with  my  con- 
science, I  wrote  letters  to  Mr.  Bell,  Mrs.  Hughes,  and  so  forth  ;  thus 
I  concluded  the  day  with  a  sort  of  busy  idleness.  This  will  not  do. 
By  cock  and  pye  it  will  not. 

January  30. — Mr.  Stuart  breakfasted  with  me,  a  grand-nephew  of 
Lady  Louisa's,  a  very  pleasing  young  gentleman.  The  coach  sur- 
prised me  by  not  calling.  Will  it  be  for  the  Martyrdom  ?  I  trow  it 
will,  yet,  strange  to  say,  I  cannot  recollect  if  it  is  a  regular  holiday  or 
not. 

"  Uprouse  ye  then,  my  merry,  merry  men, 
And  use  it  as  ye  may." 

I  wrote  in  the  morning,  and  went  at  one  o'clock  to  a  meeting  of  coun- 
try gentlemen,  about  bringing  the  direct  road  from  London  down  by 
Jed  burgh,  said  to  be  the  nearest  line  by  fifty  miles.  It  is  proposed 
the  pleasant  men  of  Teviotdale  should  pay,  not  only  their  own  share, — 
that  is,  the  expense  of  making  the  road  through  our  own  country,  but 
also  the  expense  of  making  the  road  under  the  Ellsdon  Trust  in 
Northumberland,  where  the  English  would  positively  do  nothing.  I 
stated  this  to  the  meeting  as  an  act  of  Quixotry.  If  it  be  an  advan- 
tage, which,  unless  to  individuals,  may  be  doubted,  it  is  equally  one 
to  Northumberland  as  to  Roxburgh,  therefore  I  am  clear  that  we 
should  go  "  acquals." 

1  CVwio  lupinas  ti  tuleris  manu«  >  This  letter,  brimful  of  anecdote,  is  printed 

N«c<mu  lun»,  _    G  in  Choker's  Correspondence,  vol.  ii.  pp.  28-34. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  423 

I  think  I  have  maybe  put  a  spoke  in  the  wheel.  The  raising  the 
statute  labour  of  Roxburgh  to  an  oppressive  extent,  to  make  roads  in 
England,  is,  I  think,  jimp  legal,  and  will  be  much  complained  of  by 
the  poorer  heritors.  Henry  of  Harden  dines  with  me  tete-a-tete,  ex- 
cepting the  girls. 

January  31. — I  thought  I  had  opened  a  vein  this  morning  and 
that  it  came  freely,  but  the  demands  of  art  have  been  more  than  I 
can  bear.  I  corrected  proofs  before  breakfast,  went  to  Court  after 
that  meal ;  was  busy  till  near  one  o'clock.  Then  I  went  to  CadelPs, 
where  they  are  preparing  to  circulate  the  prospectus  of  the  magnum, 
which  will  have  all  the  effect  of  surprise  on  most  people.  I  sat  to 
Mr.  Graham  till  I  was  quite  tired,  then  went  to  Lady  Jane,  who  is 
getting  better.  Then  here  at  four,  but  fit  for  nothing  but  to  bring 
up  this  silly  Diary. 

The  corpse  of  the  murderer  Burke  is  now  lying  in  state  at  the 
College,  in  the  anatomical  class,  and  all  the  world  flock  to  see  him. 
Who  is  he  that  says  that  we  are  not  ill  to  please  in  our  objects  of 
curiosity  ?  The  strange  means  by  which  the  wretch  made  money 
are  scarce  more  disgusting  than  the  eager  curiosity  with  which  the 
public  have  licked  up  all  the  carrion  details  of  this  business. 

I  trifled  with  my  work.  I  wonder  how  Johnson  set  himself  dog- 
gedly to  it — to  a  work  of  imagination  it  seems  quite  impossible,  and 
one's  brain  is  at  times  fairly  addled.  And  yet  I  have  felt  times  when 
sudden  and  strong  exertion  would  throw  off  all  this  mistiness  of  mind, 

as  a  north  wind  would  disperse  it. 

• 

"  Blow,  blow,  thou  northern  wind." ' 

Nothing  more  than  about  two  or  three  pages.  I  went  to  the  Parlia- 
ment House  to-day,  but  had  little  to  do.  I  sat  to  Mr.  Graham  the 
last  time,  Heaven  be  praised !  If  I  be  not  known  in  another  age,  it 
will  not  be  for  want  of  pictures.  We  dined  with  Mr.  Wardlaw  Ram- 
say and  Lady  Anne — a  fine  family.  There  was  little  done  in  the 
way  of  work  except  correcting  proofs.  The  bile  affects  me,  and 
makes  me  vilely  drowsy  when  I  should  be  most  awake.  Met  at  Mr. 
Wardlaw's  several  people  I  did  not  know.  Looked  over  Cumnor 
Hall  by  Mr.  Usher  Tighe  of  Oxford.  I  see  from  the  inscription  on 
Tony  Foster's  tomb  that  he  was  a  skilful  planter,  amongst  other  fash- 
ionable accomplishments. 

i  As  You  Like  It,  Act  n.  Sc.  7. 


FEBRUARY 

February  1. — Domum  mansi,  lanam  fed, — stayed  at  home  videli- 
cet, and  laboured  without  interruption  except  from  intolerable  drowsi- 
ness ;  finished  eight  leaves,  however,  the  best  day's  work  I  have  made 
this  long  time.  No  interruption,  and  I  got  pleased  with  my  work, 
which  ends  the  second  volume  of  Anne  of  Geierstein.  After  dinner 
had  a  letter  from  Lockhart,  with  happy  tidings  about  the  probability 
of  the  commission  on  the  Stewart  papers  being  dissolved.  The  Duke 
of  W.  says  commissions  never  either  did  or  will  do  any  good.  John 
will  in  that  case  be  sole  editor  of  these  papers  with  an  apartment 
at  St.  James's  cum  plurimis  aliis.  It  will  be  a  grand  coup  if  it  takes 
place. 

February  2. — Sent  off  yesterday's  work  with  proofs.  Could  I  do 
as  toughly  for  a  week — and  many  a  day  I  have  done  more — I  should 
be  soon  out  of  the  scrape.  I  wrote  letters,  and  put  over  the  day  till 
one,  when  I  went  down  with  Sir  James  Stuart  to  see  Stuart  of  Dun- 
earn's  pictures  now  on  sale.  I  did  not  see  much  which  my  poor  taste 
covets ;  a  Hobbema  much  admired  is,  I  think,  as  tame  a  piece  of 
work  as  I  ever  saw.  I  promised  to  try  to  get  a  good  picture  or  two 
for  the  young  Duke. 

Dined  with  the  old  Club,  instituted  forty  years  ago.  There  were 
present  Lord  Justice-Clerk,  Lord  Advocate,  Sir  Peter  Murray,  John 
Irving,  William  Clerk,  and  I.  It  was  a  party  such  as  the  meeting  of 
fellow  scholars  and  fellow  students  alone  could  occasion.  We  told 
old  stories ;  laughed  and  quaffed,  and  resolved,  rashly  perhaps,  that 
we  would  hold  the  Club  at  least  once  a  year,  if  possible  twice.  We 
will  see  how  this  will  fudge.  Our  mirth  was  more  unexpected  as  Sir 
Adam,  our  first  fiddle,  was  wanting,  owing  to  his  family  loss. 

February  3. — Rose  at  eight — -felt  my  revel  a  little  in  my  head. 
The  Court  business  light,  returned  by  Cadell,  and  made  one  or  two 
calls,  at  Skene's  especially.  Dinner  and  evening  at  home ;  laboriously 
employed. 

February  4. — To-day  I  was  free  from  duty,  and  made  good  use  of 
my  leisure  at  home,  finishing  the  second  volume  of  Anne,  and  writing 
several  letters,  one  to  recommend  Captain  Pringle  to  Lord  Beresford, 
which  I  send  to-morrow  through  Morritt.  "  My  mother  whips  me 
and  I  whip  the  top."  The  girls  went  to  the  play. 

February  5. — Attended  the  Court  as  usual,  got  dismissed  about 
one.  Finished  and  sent  off  volume  ii.  of  Anne.  Dined  with  Robert 
Rutherford,  my  cousin,  and  the  whole  clan  of  Swinton. 


FEB.  1829.]  JOURNAL  425 

February  6. — Corrected  proofs  in  the  morning,  then  to  the  Court ; 
thence  to  Cadell's,  where  I  found  some  business  cut  out  for  me,  in 
the  way  of  notes,  which  delayed  me.  Walked  home,  the  weary  way 
giving  my  feet  the  ancient  twinges  of  agony :  such  a  journey  is  as 
severe  a  penance  as  if  I  had  walked  the  same  length  with  peas  in  my 
shoes  to  atone  for  some  horrible  crime  by  beating  my  toes  into  a  jelly. 
I  wrote  some  and  corrected  a  good  deal.  We  dined  alone,  and  I 
partly  wrought  partly  slept  in  the  evening.  It 's  now  pretty  clear  that 
the  Duke  of  W.  intends  to  have  a  Catholic  Bill.1  He  probably  ex- 
pects to  neutralise  and  divide  the  Catholic  body  by  bringing  a  few 
into  Parliament,  where  they  will  probably  be  tractable  enough,  rather 
than  a  large  proportion  of  them  rioting  in  Ireland,  where  they  will  be 
to  a  certain  degree  unanimous. 

February  7. — Up  and  wrought  a  little.  I  had  at  breakfast  a  son 
of  Sir  Thomas  Dick  Lauder,  a  very  quick,  smart-looking  young  fellow, 
who  is  on  his  way  to  the  Continent  with  a  tutor.  Dined  at  Mrs. 
George  Swinton's  with  the  whole  clan. 

February  8. — I  wrought  the  whole  day  and  finished  about  six 
pages  of  manuscript  of  vol.  iii.  [Anne  of  Geierstein\.  Sat  cito  si  sat 
bene.  The  Skenes  came  in  to  supper  like  the  olden  world. 

February  9. — Was  up  in  good  time  (say  half-past  seven),  and  em- 
ployed the  morning  in  correcting  proofs.  At  twelve  I  went  to  Stuart 
of  Dunearn's  sale  of  pictures.  This  poor  man  fell,  like  myself,  a 

1  Sir  Walter  had  written  to  Mr.  Lockhart  on  in  the  D.    As  Bruce  said  to  the  Lord  of  the 

October  26th.  1828,  on  hearing  of  an  impending  Isles  at  Bannocktmrn,  '  My  faith  is  constant  in 

article  in  the  Quarterly,  the  following  letter: —  thee. '    Now  a  hurly-burly  charge  may  derange 

"I  cannot  repress  the  strong  desire  I  have  his  line  of  battle,  and  therein  be  of  the  most 
to  express  my  regret  at  some  parts  of  your  kind  fatal  consequence.  For  God's  sake  avail  your- 
letter  just  received.  I  shall  lament  most  truly  self  of  the  communication  I  opened  while  in 
a  purple  article  at  this  moment,  when  a  strong,  town,  and  do  not  act  without  it.  Send  this 
plain,  moderate  statement,  not  railing  at  Cath-  to  the  D.  of  W.  If  you  will,  he  will  appre- 
olics  and  their  religion,  but  reprobating  the  ciate  the  motives  that  dictate  it.  If  he  ap- 
conduct  of  the  Irish  Catholics,  and  pointing  proves  of  a  calm,  moderate,  but  firm  state- 
out  the  necessary  effects  which  that  conduct  ment,  stating  the  unreasonable  course  pursued 
must  have  on  the  Catholic  Question,  would  by  the  Catholics  as  the  great  impediment  to 
have  a  powerful  effect,  and  might  really  serve  their  own  wishes,  write  such  an  article  your- 
king  and  country.  Nothing  the  agitators  de-  self;  no  one  can  make  a  more  impressive  ap- 
sire  so  much  as  to  render  the  broil  general,  as  peal  to  common  sense  than  you  can. 
a  quarrel  between  Catholic  and  Protestant;  "The  circumstances  of  the  times  are— must 
nothing  so  essential  to  the  Protestant  cause  as  be — an  apology  for  disappointing  Southey. 
to  confine  it  to  its  real  causes.  Southey,  as  But  nothing  can  be  an  apology  for  indulging 
much  a  fanatic  as  e'er  a  Catholic  of  them  all,  him  at  the  expense  of  aggravating  public  dis- 
will,  I  fear,  pass  this  most  necessary  landmark  turbance,  which,  for  one,"!  see  with  great  ap- 
of  debate.  I  like  his  person,  admire'his  genius,  prehension. 

and  respect  his  immense  erudition,  but — now  "It has  not  yet  come  our  length;  those  [to] 

omnia.     In  point  of  reasoning  and  political  whom  you  allude  ought  certainly  to  be  served, 

judgment  he  is  a  perfect  Harpado  —  nothing  but  the  D.  is  best  judge  how  they  may  be  bett 

better  than  a  wild  bull.     The  circumstances  served.     If  the  D.  says  nothing  on  the  subject 

require  the  interference  of  vir  grams  pietate  et  you  can  slip  your  Derwentwater  greyhound  if 

moribus,  and  you  bring  it  a  Highland  piper  to  you  like.     I  write  hastily,  but  most  anxiously, 

blow  a  Highland  charge,  the  more  mischievous  ...  I  repeat  that  I  think  it  possible  to  put  the 

that  it  possesses  much  wild  power  of  inflaming  Catholic  Question  as  it  now  stands  in  a  light 

the  passions.  which  the  most  zealous  of  their  supporters  in 

"  Your  idea  that  you  must  give  Southey  his  this  country  cannot  but  consider  as  fair,  while 

swing  in  this  matter  or  he  will  quit  the  Re-  the  result  would  be  that  the  Question  should 

view, — this  is  just  a  pilot  saying,  If  I  do  not  not  be  granted  at  all  under  such  guarantees; 

give  the  helm  to  such  a  passenger  he  will  quit  but  I  think  this  is  scarce  to  be  done  by  in  flam - 

the  ship.     Let  him  quit  and  be  d— d.  ing  the  topic  with  all  mutual  virulence  of  po- 

"My  own  confidence  is,  you  know,  entirely  lemical  discussion." 


426  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

victim  to  speculation.  And  though  I  had  no  knowledge  of  him  per- 
sonally, and  disliked  him  as  the  cause  of  poor  Sir  Alexander  Bos- 
well's  death,  yet  "  had  he  been  slaughterman  to  all  my  kin," '  I  could 
but  pity  the  miserable  sight  of  his  splendid  establishment  broken  up, 
and  his  treasures  of  art  exposed  to  public  and  unsparing  sale.  I 
wanted  a  picture  of  the  Earl  of  Rothes  for  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  a 
fine  Sir  Joshua,  but  Balfour  of  Balbirnie  fancied  it  also,  and  followed 
it  to  160  guineas.  Charles  Sharpe's  account  is,  that  I  may  think  my- 
self in  luck,  for  the  face  has  been  repainted.  There  is,  he  says,  a 
print  taken  from  the  picture  at  Leslie  House  which  has  quite  a  differ- 
ent countenance  from  the  present. 

This  job,  however,  took  me  up  the  whole  morning  to  little  pur- 
pose. Captain  and  Mrs.  Hall  dined  with  us,  also  Sir  James  Stuart, 
Charles  Sharpe,  John  Scott  of  Gala,  etc. 

February  10. — I  was  up  at  seven  this  morning,  and  will  continue 
the  practice,  but  the  shoal  of  proofs  took  up  all  my  leisure.  I  will 
not,  I  think,  go  after  these  second-rate  pictures  again  to-day.  If  I 
could  get  a  quiet  day  or  two  I  would  make  a  deep  dint  in  the  third 
volume ;  but  hashed  and  smashed  as  my  time  is,  who  can  make  any- 
thing of  it?  I  read  over  Henry's  History  of  Henry  vi.  and  Ed- 
ward iv. ;  he  is  but  a  stupid  historian  after  all.  This  took  me  up  the 
whole  day. 

February  11. — Up  as  usual  and  wrought  at  proofs.  Mr.  Hay 
Drummond  and  Macintosh  Mackay  dined.  The  last  brought  me  his 
history  of  the  Blara  Leine  or  White  Battle  (battle  of  the  shirts).  To 
the  Court,  and  remained  there  till  two,  when  we  had  some  awkward 
business  in  the  Council  of  the  Royal  Society. 

February  12. — W.  Lockhart  came  to  breakfast,  full  of  plans  for 
his  house,  which  will  make  a  pretty  and  romantic  habitation.  After 
breakfast  the  Court  claimed  its  vassal. 

As  I  came  out  Mr.  Chambers  introduced  a  pretty  little  romantic 
girl  to  me  who  possessed  a  laudable  zeal  to  know  a  live  poet.  I  went 
with  my  fair  admirer  as  far  as  the  new  rooms  on  the  Mound,  where  I 
looked  into  the  Royal  Society's  Rooms,  then  into  the  Exhibition,  in 
mere  unwillingness  to  work  and  desire  to  dawdle  away  time.  Learn- 
ed that  Lord  Haddington  had  bought  the  Sir  Joshua.  I  wrought 
hard  to-day  and  made  out  five  pages. 

February  13. — This  morning  Col.  Hunter  Blair  breakfasted  here 
with  his  wife,  a  very  pretty  woman,  with  a  good  deal  of  pleasant  con- 
versation. She  had  been  in  India,  and  had  looked  about  her  to  pur- 
pose. I  wrote  for  several  hours  in  the  forenoon,  but  was  nervous  and 
drumlie  ;  also  I  bothered  myself  about  geography ;  in  short,  there  was 
trouble,  as  miners  say  when  the  vein  of  metal  is  interrupted.  Went 
out  at  two,  and  walked,  thank  God,  better  than  in  the  winter,  which 
gives  me  hopes  that  the  failure  of  the  unfortunate  limb  is  only  tem- 

>  Henry  VI. ,  Act  I.  Sc.  4. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  427 

porary,  owing  to  severe  weather.  We  dined  at  John  Murray's  with 
the  Mansfield  family.  Lady  Caroline  Murray  possesses,  I  think,  the 
most  pleasing  taste  for  music,  and  is  the  best  singer  I  ever  heard. 
No  temptation  to  display  a  very  brilliant  voice  ever  leads  her  aside 
from  truth  and  simplicity,  and  besides,  she  looks  beautiful  when  she 
sings. 

February  14. — Wrote  in  the  morning,  which  begins  to  be  a  regu- 
lar act  of  duty.  It  was  late  ere  I  got  home,  and  I  did  not  do  much. 
The  letters  I  received  were  numerous  and  craved  answers,  yet  the 
third  volume  is  getting  on  hooly  and  fairly.  I  am  twenty  leaves  be- 
fore the  printers ;  but  Ballantyne's  wife  is  ill,  and  it  is  his  nature  to 
indulge  apprehensions  of  the  worst,  which  incapacitates  him  for  la- 
bour. I  cannot  help  regarding  this  amiable  weakness  of  the  mind 
with  something  too  nearly  allied  to  contempt.  I  keep  the  press  be- 
hind me  at  a  good  distance,  and  I,  like  the 

"  Postboy's  horse,  am  glad  to  miss 
The  lumber  of  the  wheels."  ' 

February  15. — I  wrought  to-day,  but  not  much — rather  dawdled, 
and  took  to  reading  Chambers's  Beauties  of  Scotland,2  which  would 
be  admirable  if  they  were  more  accurate.  He  is  a  clever  young  fel- 
low, but  hurts  himself  by  too  much  haste.  I  am  not  making  too 
much  myself  I  know,  and  I  know,  too,  it  is  time  I  were  making  it. 
Unhappily  there  is  such  a  thing  as  more  haste  and  less  speed.  I  can 
very  seldom  think  to  purpose  by  lying  perfectly  idle,  but  when  I  take 
an  idle  book,  or  a  walk,  my  mind  strays  back  to  its  task  out  of  con- 
tradiction as  it  were ;  the  things  I  read  become  mingled  with  those  I 
have  been  writing,  and  something  is  concocted.  I  cannot  compare 
this  process  of  the  mind  to  anything  save  that  of  a  woman  to  whom 
the  mechanical  operation  of  spinning  serves  as  a  running  bass  to  the 
songs  she  sings,  or  the  course  of  ideas  she  pursues.  The  phrase 
Hoc  age,  often  quoted  by  my  father,  does  not  jump  with  my  humour. 
I  cannot  nail  my  mind  to  one  subject  of  contemplation,  and  it  is  by 
nourishing  two  trains  of  ideas  that  I  can  bring  one  into  order. 

Colin  Mackenzie  came  in  to  see  me,  poor  fellow.  He  looks  well 
in  his  retirement.  Partly  I  envy  him — partly  I  am  better  pleased  as 
it  is. 

February  16. — Stayed  at  home  and  laboured  all  the  forenoon. 
Young  Invernahyle  called  to  bid  me  interest  myself  about  getting  a 
lad  of  the  house  of  Scott  a  commission — how  is  this  possible  ?  The 
last  I  tried  for,  there  was  about  3000  on  the  list — and  they  say  the 
boy  is  too  old,  being  twenty-four.  I  scribbled  three  or  four  pages, 
forbore  smoking  and  whisky  and  water,  and  went  to  the  Royal  So- 
ciety. There  Sir  William  Hamilton  read  an  essay,  the  result  of  some 

i  John  Gilpin.  bers,  author  of  Traditions  of  Edinburgh,  etc.. 

3  The  Picture  of  Scotland  by  Robert  Cham-       8vo,  1829. 


428  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

anatomical  investigations,  which  contained  a  masked  battery  against 
the  phrenologists. 

February  17. —In  the  morning  I  sent  off  copy  and  proof.  I  re- 
ceived the  melancholy  news  that  James  Ballantyne  has  lost  his  wife. 
With  his  domestic  habits  the  blow  is  irretrievable.  What  can  he  do, 
poor  fellow,  at  the  head  of  such  a  family  of  children !  I  should  not 
be  surprised  if  he  were  to  give  way  to  despair. 

I  was  at  the  Court,  where  there  was  little  to  do,  but  it  diddled 
away  my  time  till  two.  I  went  to  the  library,  but  not  a  book  could 
I  get  to  look  at.  It  is,  I  think,  a  wrong  system  the  lending  books  to 
private  houses  at  all,  and  leads  to  immense  annual  losses.  I  called 
on  Skene,  and  borrowed  a  volume  of  his  Journal,  to  get  some  infor- 
mation about  Burgundy  and  Provence.  Something  may  be  made  out 
of  King  Rene,  but  I  wish  I  had  thought  of  him  sooner.1  Dined  alone 
with  the  girls. 

February  18. — This  being  Teind  Wednesday  I  had  a  holiday. 
Worked  the  whole  day,  interrupted  by  calls  from  Dr.  Ross,  Sir  Hugh 
Palliser,  Sir  David  Hunter  Blair,  and  Colonel  Blair.  I  made  out  about 
six  pages  before  dinner,  and  go  to  Lord  Gillies's  to  dine  with  a  good 
conscience.  Hay  Drummond  came  in,  and  discharged  a  volley  at  me 
which  Mons  Meg  could  hardly  have  equalled.  I  will  go  to  work  with 
Skene's  Journal.  My  head  aches  violently,  and  has  done  so  several 
days.  It  is  cold,  I  think. 

At  Lord  Gillies's  we  found  Sir  John  Dalrymple,  Lady  Dalrymple, 
and  Miss  Ferguson,  Mr.  Hope  Vere  of  Craigiehall,  and  Lady  Eliza- 
beth, a  sister  of  Lord  Tweeddale,  Sir  Robert  O'Callaghan,  Captain 
Cathcart,  and  others — a  gay  party. 

February  19. — An  execrable  day — half  frost,  half  fresh,  half  sleet, 
half  rain,  and  wholly  abominable.  Having  made  up  my  packet  for 
the  printing-house,  and  performed  my  duty  at  the  Court,  I  had  the 
firmness  to  walk  round  by  the  North  Bridge,  and  face  the  weather 
for  two  miles,  by  way  of  exercise.  Called  on  Skene,  and  saw  some 
of  his  drawings  of  Aix.  It  was  near  two  before  I  got  home,  and  now 
I  hear  three  strike ;  part  of  this  hour  has  been  consumed  in  a  sound 
sleep  by  the  fireside  after  putting  on  dry  things.  I  met  Baron  Hume,2 

1  Mr.  Skene  remarks  that  at  this  time  "Sir  which  were  admirably  suited  to  Sir  Walter's 
Walter  was  engaged  in  the  composition  of  the  graphic  style  of  illustration,  and  that  he  could 
Novel  of  Anne  of  Geierstein,  for  which  purpose  besides  introduce  the  ceremonies  of  the  Fete 
he  wished  to  see  a  paper  which  I  had  some  ZWeuwith  great  advantage,  as  I  had  fortunately 
time  before  contributed  to  the  Memoirs  of  the  seen  its  revival  the  first  time  it  was  celebrated 
Society  of  Antiquaries  on  the  subject  of  the  after  the  interruption  of  the  revolution.  He 
Secret  Tribunals  of  Germany,  and  upon  which,  liked  the  idea  much,  and,  accordingly,  a  Jour- 
accordingly,  he  grounded  the  scene  in  the  nov-  nal  which  I  had  written  during  my  residence 
el.  Upon  his  describing  to  me  the  scheme  in  Provence,  with  a  volume  of  accompanying 
which  he  had  formed  for  that  work,  I  suggest-  drawings  and  Papon's  History  of  Provence  was 
ed  to  him  that  he  might  with  advantage  con-  forthwith  sent  for,  and  the  whole  denouement 
nect  the  history  of  Rene,  king  of  Provence,  of  the  story  of  Anne  of  Geierstein  was  changed, 
which  would  lead  to  many  interesting  topo-  and  the  Provence  part  woven  into  it,  in  the 
graphical  details  which  my  residence  in  that  form  in  which  it  ultimately  came  forth.— /Jem- 
country  would  enable  me  to  supply,  besides  inisccnces. 

the  opportunity  of  illustrating  so  eccentric  a  2  This  learned  gentleman  died  in  his  house, 

character  as  'le  Ion  roi  Kent,'  full  of  traits  34  Moray  Place,  Edinburgh,  on  the  30tn  Au- 


1829.]  JOURNAL  429 

and  we  praised  each  other's  hardihood  for  daring  to  take  exercise  in 
such  weather,  agreeing  that  if  a  man  relax  the  custom  of  his  exercise 
in  Scotland  for  a  bad  day  he  is  not  likely  to  resume  it  in  a  hurry. 
The  other  moiety  of  the  time  was  employed  in  looking  over  the 
Memoir es  de  Fauche-Borel* 

February  20. — The  Court  duly  took  me  up  from  eleven  till  about 
three,  but  left  some  time  for  labour,  which  I  employed  to  purpose, 
at  least  I  hope  so.  I  declined  going  to  the  exhibition  of  paintings 
to-night ;  neither  the  beauties  of  art  nor  of  nature  have  their  former 
charms  for  me.  I  finished,  however,  about  seven  pages  of  manuscript, 
which  is  a  fair  half  of  volume  iii.  I  wish  I  could  command  a  little 
more  time  and  I  would  soon  find  you  something  or  other,  but  the 
plague  is  that  time  is  wanting  when  I  feel  an  aptitude  to  work,  and 
when  time  abounds,  the  will,  at  least  the  real  efficient  power  of  the 
faculties,  is  awanting.  Still,  however,  we  make  way  by  degrees.  I 
glanced  over  some  metrical  romances  published  by  Hartshorne,  sev- 
eral of  which  have  not  seen  the  light.  They  are  considerably  curi- 
ous, but  I  was  surprised  to  see  them  mingled  with  Blanchefleur  and 
Flores  and  one  or  two  others  which  might  have  been  spared.  There 
is  no  great  display  of  notes  or  prolegomena,  and  there  is,  moreover, 
no  glossary.  But  the  work  is  well  edited.3 

February  21. — Colonel  Ferguson  breakfasted  with  us.  I  was  de- 
tained at  the  Parliament  House  till  the  hour  of  poor  Mrs.  Ballantyne's 
funeral,  then  attended  that  melancholy  ceremony.  The  husband  was 
unable  to  appear ;  the  sight  of  the  poor  children  was  piteous  enough. 
James  Ballantyne  has  taken  his  brother  Sandy  into  the  house,  I  mean 
the  firm,  about  which  there  had  formerly  been  some  misunderstand- 
ing. 

I  attended  the  Bannatyne  Club.  We  made  a  very  good  election, 
bringing  in  Lord  Dalhousie  and  the  Lord  Clerk  Register.3  Our  din- 
ner went  pretty  well  off,  but  I  have  seen  it  merrier.  To  be  sure  old 
Dr.  J.,  like  an  immense  feather-bed,  was  burking  me,  as  the  phrase 
now  goes,  during  the  whole  time.  I  am  sure  that  word  will  stick  in 
the  language  for  one  while. 

February  22. — Very  rheumatic.  I  e'en  turned  my  table  to  the 
fire  and  feagued  it  away,  as  Bayes  says.  Neither  did  I  so  much  as 
cast  my  eyes  round  to  see  what  sort  of  a  day  it  was — the  splashing 
on  the  windows  gave  all  information  that  was  necessary.  Yet,  with 

gust,  1838,  aged  eighty-two.    He  had  filled  va-  »  Published    in    four  volumes,   8vo,    1829. 
rious  important  situations  with  great  ability  Fauche-Borel,  an  agent  of  the  Bourbons,  had 
during  his  long  life:— Sheriff 'of  Berwick  and  just  died.    The  book  is  still  in  the  Abbotsford 
West  Lothian,  Professor  of  Scots  Law  in  the  library. 
University,  and  afterwards  a  Baron  of  Excheq- 
uer, which  latter  office  ho  held  till  the  abolition  „  An6ient  Metrical  Tales   editcd  b    Rev  c 
of  the  court  in  1830     He  IB  best  remembered  H  Hartshorne.    8vo  i*^  1829.  7 
by  his  work  on  the  Criminal  Law  of  Scotland, 
published  in  1797.     He  bequeathed  his  uncle 

the  historian's  correspondence  with  Rousseau  3  The  Right  Hon.  William  Dundas,  born  1762, 

and  other  distinguished  foreigners  to  the  Royal  died  1845;  appointed  Lord  Clerk  Register  in 

Society  of  Edinburgh.  1821. 


430  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

all  my  leisure,  during  the  whole  day  I  finished  only  four  leaves  of 
copy — somewhat  of  the  least,  master  Matthew.1 

There  was  no  interruption  during  the  whole  day,  though  the  above 
is  a  poor  account  of  it. 

February  23. — Up  and  at  it.  After  breakfast  Mr.  Hay  Drum- 
mond  came  in  enchanted  about  Mons  Meg,"  and  roaring  as  loud  as 
she  could  have  done  for  her  life  when  she  was  in  perfect  voice. 

James  Ballantyne  came  in,  to  my  surprise,  about  twelve  o'clock. 
He  was  very  serious,  and  spoke  as  if  he  had  some  idea  of  sudden 
and  speedy  death.  He  mentioned  that  he  had  named  Cadell,  Cowan, 
young  Hughes,  and  his  brother  to  be  his  trustees  with  myself.  He 
has  settled  to  go  to  the  country,  poor  fellow,  to  Timpendeau,  as  I  think. 

We  dined  at  Skene's,  where  we  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Forbes, 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Blair,  George  Bell,  etc.  The  party  was  a  pleasant 
one.  Colonel  Blair  said,  that  during  the  Battle  of  Waterloo  there 
was  at  the  commencement  some  trouble  necessary  to  prevent  the 
men  from  breaking  their  ranks.  He  expostulated  with  one  man : 
"Why,  my  good  fellow,  you  cannot  propose  to  beat  the  French  alone? 
— better  keep  your  ranks."  The  man,  who  was  one  of  the  71st,  re- 
turned to  his  ranks,  saying,  "  I  believe  you  are  very  right,  sir,  but  I 
am  a  man  of  very  hot  temper"  There  was  much  bonhomie  in  the  reply. 

February  24. — Snowy  miserable  morning.  I  corrected  my  proofs, 
but  had  no  time  to  write  anything.  We,  i.e.  myself  and  the  two 
Annes,  went  to  breakfast  with  Mr.  Drummond  Hay,  where  we  again 
met  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Blair,  with  Thomas  Thomson.  We  looked  over 
some  most  beautiful  drawings3  which  Mrs.  Blair  had  made  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  India,  exhibiting  a  species  of  architecture  so  gorgeous, 
and  on  a  scale  so  extensive,  as  to  put  to  shame  the  magnificence  of 
Europe.  And  yet,  in  most  cases,  as  little  is  known  of  the  people 
who  wrought  these  wonders  as  of  the  kings  who  built  the  Pyramids. 
Fame  depends  on  literature,  not  on  architecture.  We  are  more  eager 
to  see  a  broken  column  of  Cicero's  villa,  than  all  those  mighty  la- 
bours of  barbaric  power.  Mrs.  Blair  is  full  of  enthusiasm.  She  told 
me  that  when  she  worked  with  her  pencil  she  was  glad  to  have  some 
one  to  read  to  her  as  a  sort  of  sedative,  otherwise  her  excitement 
made  her  tremble,  and  burst  out  a-crying.  I  can  understand  this 
very  well,  having  often  found  the  necessity  of  doing  two  things  at 
once.  She  is  a  very  pretty,  dark  woman  too,  and  has  been  compared 
to  Rebecca,  daughter  of  the  Jew,  Isaac  of  York. 

Detained  in  the  Court  till  half-past  two  bothering  about  Lady 
Essex  Kerr's  will  without  coming  to  a  conclusion.  I  then  got  home 
too  late  to  do  anything,  as  I  must  prepare  to  go  to  Dalmahoy.  Mr. 
Gibson  came  in  for  a  little  while ;  no  news. 

1  Ben  Jonson,  Every  Man  in  hit  Humour,  3  Some  of  these  fine  drawings  have  been  en- 
Act  i.  Sc.  4.  graved  for  Colonel  Tod's  Travels  in  Western 

3  For  notices  of  this  gigantic  cannon,  see  India.     Lond.  4to,  1839.— J.  G.  L. 
ante,  p.  28,  and  post,  p.  436;  also  Life,  vol.  vii. 
pp.  86,  87. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  431 

I  went  to  Dalmahoy,  where  we  were  most  kindly  received.  It  is 
a  point  of  friendship,  however,  to  go  eight  miles  to  dinner  and  return 
in  the  evening ;  and  my  day  has  been  cut  up  without  a  brush  of 
work.  Smoked  a  cigar  on  my  return,  being  very  cold. 

February  25. — This  morning  I  corrected  my  proofs.  We  get  on, 
as  John  Ferguson  said  when  they  put  him  on  a  hunter.  I  fear  there 
is  too  much  historical  detail,  and  the  catastrophe  will  be  vilely  hud- 
dled up.  "And  who  can  help  it,  Dick?"  Visited  James  Ballantyne, 
and  found  him  bearing  his  distress  sensibly  and  like  a  man.  I  called 
in  at  Cadell's,  and  also  inquired  after  Lady  Jane  Stuart,  who  is  com- 
plaining. Three  o'clock  placed  me  at  home,  and  from  that  hour  till 
ten,  deduct  two  hours  for  dinner,  I  was  feaguing  it  away. 

February  26. — Sent  off  ten  pages  this  morning,  with  a  revise  ;  we 
spy  land,  but  how  to  get  my  catastrophe  packed  into  the  compass  al- 
lotted for  it — 

"It  sticks  like  a  pistol  half  out  of  its  holster, 
Or  rather  indeed  like  au  obstinate  bolster, 
Which  I  think  I  have  seen  you  attempting,  my  dear, 
lu  vain  to  cram  into  a  small  pillowbeer." 

There  is  no  help  for  it — I  must  make  a  tour  deforce,  and  annihilate 
both  time  and  space.  Dined  at  home ;  nevertheless  made  small  prog- 
ress. But  I  must  prepare  my  dough  before  I  can  light  my  oven.  I 
would  fain  think  I  am  in  the  right  road. 

February  27. — The  last  post  brought  a  letter  from  Mr.  Heath, 
proposing  to  set  off  his  engravings  for  the  Magnum  Opus  against 
my  contributions  for  the  Keepsake.  A  pretty  mode  of  accounting 

that  would  be ;  he  be .  I  wrote  him  declining  his  proposal ;  and, 

as  he  says  I  am  still  in  his  debt,  I  will  send  him  the  old  drama  of  the 
House  of  Aspen,  which  I  wrote  some  thirty  years  ago,  and  offered  to 
the  stage.  This  will  make  up  my  contribution,  and  a  good  deal 
more,  if,  as  I  recollect,  there  are  five  acts.  Besides,  it  will  save  me 
further  trouble  about  Heath  and  his  Annual.  Secondly,  There  are 
several  manuscript  copies  of  the  play  abroad,  and  some  of  them  will 
be  popping  out  one  of  these  days  in  a  contraband  manner.  Thirdly, 
If  I  am  right  as  to  the  length  of  the  piece,  there  is  £'100  extra  work 
at  least  which  will  not  be  inconvenient  at  all. 

Dined  at  Sir  John  Hay's  with  Ramsay  of  Barnton  and  his  young 
bride,  Sir  David  and  Lady  Hunter  Blair,  etc. 

I  should  mention  that  Cadell  breakfasted  with  me,  and  entirely 
approved  of  my  rejecting  Heath's  letter.  There  was  one  funny  part 
of  it,  in  which  he  assured  me  that  the  success  of  the  new  edition  of 
the  Waverley  Novels  depended  entirely  on  the  excellence  of  the  illus- 
trations— vous  etes  joaillier,  Mons.  Josse.1  He  touches  a  point  which 
alarms  me ;  he  greatly  undervalues  the  portrait  which  Wilkie  has 

1  Moli6re,  L1  Amour  Medecin,  Act  i.  Sc.  1  (joaillier  for  orfevre). 


432 


JOURNAL 


[FEB.  182U. 


prepared  to  give  me  for  this  edition.  If  it  is  as  little  of  a  likeness 
as  he  says,  it  is  a  scrape.  But  a  scrape  be  it.  Wilkic  behaved  in 
the  kindest  way,  considering  his  very  bad  health,  in  agreeing  to  work 
for  me  at  all,  and  I  will  treat  him  with  due  delicacy,  and  not  wound 
his  feelings  by  rejecting  what  he  has  given  in  such  kindness.1  And 
so  farewell  to  Mr.  Heath,  and  the  conceited  vulgar  Cockney  his 
Editor. 

February  28. — Finished  my  proofs  this  morning,  and  read  part 
of  a  curious. work,  called  Memoirs  of  Vidocq;  a  fellow  who  was  at 
the  head  of  Bonaparte's  police.  It  is  a  pickaresque  tale ;  in  other 
words,  a  romance  of  roguery.  The  whole  seems  much  exaggerated, 
and  got  up ;  but  I  suppose  there  is  truth  au  fond.  I  came  home 
about  two  o'clock,  and  wrought  hard  and  fast  till  night. 


i  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  by  Wil- 
kic  shows  how  willingly  he  had  responded  to 
Scott's  request:— 

7  TBBKACX,  KENSINGTON, 
LONDON,  Jan.  1849. 

"DEAR  SIR  WALTER, — I  pass  over  all  those 
disastrous  events  that  have  arrived  to  us  both 
since  our  last,  as  you  justly  call  it,  melancholy 
parting,  to  assure  you  how  delighted  I  shall  be 
if  I  can  in  the  most  inconsiderable  degree  as- 


sist in  the  illustrations  of  the  great  work,  which 
we  all  hope  may  lighten  or  remove  that  load  of 
troubles  by  which  your  noble  spirit  is  at  this 
time  beset;  considering  it  as  only  repaying  a 
debt  of  obligation  which  you  yourself  have  laid 
upon  me  when,  with  an  unseen  hand  in  the  An- 
tiquary, you  took  me  up  and  claimed  me,  the 
humble  painter  of  domestic  sorrow,  as  your 
countryman." 


MARCH 

March  1. — I  laboured  hard  the  whole  day,  and,  between  hands, 
refreshed  myself  with  Vidocq's  Memoirs.  No  one  called  except  Hay 
Drummond,  who  had  something  to  say  about  Mons  Meg.  So  I  wrote 
before  and  after  dinner,  till  no  less  than  ten  pages  were  finished. 

March  2. — I  wrought  but  little  to-day.  I  was  not  in  the  vein, 
and  felt  sleepy.  I  thought  to  go  out,  but  disgust  of  the  pavement 
kept  me  at  home,  0  rus,  etc.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  the  llth 
March  sets  us  on  the  route  for  Abbotsford.  I  shall  be  done  long  be- 
fore with  this  confounded  novel.  I  wish  I  were,  for  I  find  trouble  in 
bringing  it  to  a  conclusion.  People  compliment  me  sometimes  on 
the  extent  of  my  labour ;  but  if  I  could  employ  to  purpose  the  hours 
that  indolence  and  lassitude  steal  away  from  me,  they  would  have 
cause  to  wonder  indeed.  But  day  must  have  night,  vigilance  must 
have  sleep,  and  labour,  bodily  or  mental,  must  have  rest.  As  Edgar 
says,  I  cannot  fool  it  further.1  Anne  is  gone  to  Hopetoun  House  for 
two  days. 

Dined  at  the  Royal  Society  Club,  and  went  to  the  Society  in  the 
evening. 

March  3. — Began  this  day  with  labour  as  usual,  and  made  up  my 
packet.  Then  to  the  Court,  where  there  is  a  deal  of  business.  Ham- 
ilton, having  now  a  serious  fit  of  the  gout,  is  not  expected  to  aid  any 
more  this  season.  I  wrote  a  little  both  before  and  after  dinner. 
Niece  Anne  and  I  dined  alone.  Three  poets  called,  each  bawling 
louder  than  the  other — subscribe,  subscribe !  I  generally  do,  if  the 
work  be  under  10s.;  but  the  wares  were  every  one  so  much  worse 
than  another,  that  I  declined  in  the  three  instances  before  me.  I 
got  cross  at  the  repeated  demands,  and  could  have  used  Richard's 
apology — 

"  Thou  troubl'st  me :  I  am  not  in  the  vein." 2 

March  4. — Being  Teind  Wednesday,  I  settled  myself  at  my  desk 
and  laboured  the  whole  forenoon.  Got  on  to  page  seventy-two,  so 
there  cannot  be  more  than  twenty  pages  wanted.  Mr.  Drummond 
Hay,  who  has  an  alertness  in  making  business  out  of  nothing,  came 
to  call  once  more  about  Mons  Meg.  He  is  a  good-humoured  gentle- 
manlike man,  but  I  would  Meg  were  in  his  belly  or  he  in  hers.  Will- 
iam Laidlaw  also  called,  whom  I  asked  to  dinner.  At  four  o'clock 

1  See  Lear,  Act  iv.  Sc.  1.  3  Richard  III.,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 

28 


434  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

arrives  Mr.  Cadell,  with  his  horn  charged  with  good  news.  The 
prospectus  of  the  Magnum,  already  issued  only  a  week,  has  produced 
such  a  demand  among  the  trade,  that"  he  thinks  he  must  add  a  large 
number  of  copies,  that  the  present  edition  of  7000  may  be  increased 
to  the  demand  ;  he  talks  of  raising  it  to  10,000  or  12,000.  If  so,  I 
shall  have  a  constant  income  to  bear  on  my  unfortunate  debts  to  a 
large  amount  yearly,  and  may  fairly  hope  to  put  them  in  a  secure  way 
of  payment,  even  if  I  should  be  cut  off  in  life,  or  in  health,  and  the 
power  of  labour.  I  hope  to  be  able,  in  a  year  or  two,  to  make  pro- 
posals for  eating  with  my  own  spoons,  and  using  my  own  books, 
which,  if  I  can  give  value  for  them,  can  hardly,  I  think,  be  refused  to 
me.1  In  the  meantime  I  have  enough,  and  something  to  bequeath  to 
my  poor  children.  This  is  a  great  mercy,  but  I  must  prepare  for  dis- 
appointment, and  I  will  not  be  elated. 

Laidlaw  dined  with  me,  and,  poor  fellow,  was  as  much  elated  with 
the  news  as  I  am,  for  it  is  not  of  a  nature  to  be  kept  secret.  I  hope 
I  shall  have  him  once  more  at  Kaeside  to  debate,  as  we  used  to  do,  on 
religion  and  politics.  Meanwhile,  patience,  cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards. 

I  must  do  what  I  can  to  get  Cadell's  discharge  from  his  creditors  ; 
this  I  have  always  done,  and  so  far  effectually,  but  it  would  be  most 
inconvenient  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  creditors  who  may  at  any  moment 
make  inquiry  into  his  affairs  and  so  stop  his  operations.  The  Old 
Bank  of  Scotland  are  the  only  parties  whose  consent  lias  not  been 
obtained  to  his  discharge,  and  they  must  see  their  interest  in  consent- 
ing to  it  for  the  expediting  of  my  affairs ;  since  to  what  purpose  op- 
pose it,  for  they  have  not  the  least  chance  of  mending  their  own  by 
refusing  it. 

March  5. — Proofs  arranged  in  the  morning.  Sir  Patrick  Walker, 
that  Solomon  the  second,  came  to  propose  to  me  that  some  benefit 
society,  which  he  patronises,  should  attend  upon  Mons  Meg ;  but, 
with  the  Celts  at  my  disposal,  I  have  every  reason  to  think  they  would 
be  affronted  at  being  marched  along  with  Sir  Peter  and  his  tail  of 
trades'  lads.  I  went  to  the  Court,  which  detained  me  till  two,  then  to 
poor  old  Lady  Seaforth's  funeral,3  which  was  numerously  attended. 
It  was  near  four  ere  I  got  home,  bringing  Skene  with  me.  We  called 
at  Cadell's ;  the  edition  of  the  Magnum  is  raised  from  7000  to  10,000. 
There  will  really  be  a  clearance  in  a  year  or  two  if  R.  C.  is  hot  too 
sanguine.  I  never  saw  so  much  reason  for  indulging  hope.  By  the 
bye,  I  am  admitted  a  member  of  the  Maitland  Club,  a  Society  on  the 
principle  of  the  Roxburghe  and  Bannatyne.  What  a  tail  of  the  al- 
phabet I  should  draw  after  me  were  I  to  sign  with  the  indications  of 
the  different  societies  I  belong  to,  beginning  with  President  of  the 
Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh,  and  ended  with  umpire  of  the  Six-foot- 
high  Club  !s  Dined  at  home,  and  in  quiet,  with  the  girls. 

1  See  letter  to  George  Forbes  from  Sir  Wai-  of  Kintail,  and  mother  of  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Stewart 

ter,  dated  Dec.  18th,  1830.  —  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  Mackenzie. 

19,  20.  a  A  sportive  association  of  young  athletes. 

'  Widow  of  Francis,  Lord  Seaforth,  last  Baron  Hogg,  I  think,  was  their  Poet  Laureate.  —  i.  o.  L. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  435 

March  6. — Made  some  considerable  additions  to  the  Appendix  to 
General  Preface.  I  am  in  the  sentiments  towards  the  public  that  the 
buffoon  player  expresses  towards  his  patron — 

"Go  tell  my  young  lord,  said  this  modest  young  man, 

If  he  will  but  invite  me  to  dinner, 
I'll  be  as  diverting  as  ever  I  can — 
I  will,  on  the  faith  of  a  sinner." 

I  will  multiply  the  notes,  therefore,  when  there  is  a  chance  of  giving 
pleasure  and  variety.  There  is  a  stronger  gleam  of  hope  on  my  af- 
fairs than  has  yet  touched  on  them  ;  it  is  not  steady  or  certain,  but 
it  is  bright  and  conspicuous.  Ten  years  may  last  with  me,  though  I 
have  little  chance  of  it.  At  the  end  of  this  time  these  works  will 
have  operated  a  clearance  of  debt,  especially  as  Cadell  offers  to  ac- 
commodate with  such  money  as  their  house  can  save  to  pay  off  what 
presses.  I  hope  to  save,  rather  than  otherwise,  and  if  I  leave  my  lit- 
erary property  to  my  children,  it  will  make"  a  very  good  thing  for 
them,  and  Abbotsford  must  in  any  event  go  to  my  family,  so,  on  the 
whole,  I  have  only  to  pray  for  quiet  times,  for  how  can  men  mind 
their  serious  business — that  is,  according  to  Cadell's  views — buying 
Waverley  Novels  when  they  are  going  mad  about  the  Catholic  ques- 
tion. Dined  at  Mr.  Nairne's,  where  there  was  a  great  meeting  of 
Bannatynians,  rather  too  numerous,  being  on  the  part  of  our  host  an 
Election  dinner. 

March  7. — Sent  away  proofs.  This  extrication  of  my  affairs, 
though  only  a  Pisgah  prospect,  occupies  my  mind  more  than  is  fitting ; 
but  without  some  such  hope  I  must  have  felt  like  one  of  the  victims 
of  the  wretch  Burke,  struggling  against  a  smothering  weight  on  my 
bosom,  till  nature  could  endure  it  no  longer.  No;  I  will  not  be  the 
sport  of  circumstances.  Come  of  it  what  will,  "  I'll  bend  my  brows 
like  Highland  trows  "  and  make  a  bold  fight  of  it. 

"  The  best  o't,  the  warst  o't, 
Is  only  just  to  die." ' 

And  die  I  think  I  shall,  though  I  am  not  such  a  coward  as  mortem 
conscire  me  ipso.  But  I  'gin  to  grow  aweary  of  the  sun,  and  when  the 
plant  no  longer  receives  nourishment  from  light  and  air,  there  is  a 
speedy  prospect  of  its  withering. 

Dined  with  the  Banking  Club  of  Scotland,  in  virtue  of  Sir  Mala- 
chi  Malagrowther  ;  splendid  entertainment,  of  course.  Sir  John  Hay 
in  the  chair. 

March  8. — Spent  the  morning  in  reading  proofs  and  additions  to 
Magnum.  I  got  a  note  from  Cadell,  in  which  Ballantyne,  by  a  letter 
enclosed,  totally  condemns  Anne  of  Geierstein — three  volumes  nearly 

1  Malr  spier  na,  no  fear  na, 

Auld  age  ne'er  mind  a  feg ; 
The  last  o't,  the  warst  o't, 
Is  only  for  to  beg.— BUR>S'S  Ep.  to  Davie. 


436  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

finished — a  pretty  thing,  truly,  for  I  will  be  expected  to  do  it  all  over 
again.  Great  dishonour  in  this,  as  Trinculo  says,1  besides  an  infinite 
loss.  Sent  for  Cadcll  to  attend  me  next  morning  that  we  may.  con- 
sult about  this  business.  Peel  has  made  his  motion  on  the  Catholic 
question,  with  a  speech  of  three  hours.  It  is  almost  a  complete  sur- 
render to  the  Catholics,  and  so  it  should  be,  for  half  measures  do  but 
linger  out  the  feud.  This  will,  or  rather  ought  to,  satisfy  all  men  who 
sincerely  love  peace,  and  therefore  all  men  of  property.  But  will  this 
satisfy  Pat,  who,  with  all  his  virtues,  is  certainly  not  the  most  sensible 
person  in  the  world  ?  Perhaps  not ;  and  if  not,  it  is  but  fighting  them 
at  last.  I  smoked  away,  and  thought  of  ticklish  politics  and  bad 
novels.  Skene  supped  with  us. 

March  9. — Cadell  came  to  breakfast.  We  resolved  in  Privy 

Council  to  refer  the  question  whether  Anne  of  G n  be  sea-worthy 

or  not  to  further  consideration,  which,  as  the  book  cannot  be  pub- 
lished, at  any  rate,  during  the  full  rage  of  the  Catholic  question,  may 
be  easily  managed.  After  breakfast  I  went  to  Sir  William  Arbuth- 
not's,2  and  met  there  a  select  party  of  Tories,  to  decide  whether  we 
should  act  with  the  Whigs  by  owning  their  petition  in  favour  of  the 
Catholics.  I  was  not  free  from  apprehension  that  the  petition  might 
be  put  into  such  general  language  as  I,  at  least,  was  unwilling  to  au- 
thenticate by  my  subscription.  The  Solicitor3  was  voucher  that  they 
would  keep  the  terms  quite  general ;  whereupon  we  subscribed  the 
requisition  for  a  meeting,  with  a  slight  alteration,  affirming  that  it  was 
our  desire  not  to  have  intermeddled,  had  not  the  anti-Catholics  pur- 
sued that  course ;  and  so  the  Whigs  and  we  are  embarked  in  the 
same  boat,  vogue  la  galere. 

Went  about  one  o'clock  to  the  Castle,  where  we  saw  the  auld 
murderess  Mons  Meg  brought  up  there  in  solemn  procession  to  reoc- 
cupy  her  ancient  place  on  the  Argyle  battery.  Lady  Ilopetoun  Avas 
my  belle.  The  day  was  cold  but  serene,  and  I  think  the  ladies  must 
have  been  cold  enough,  not  to  mention  the  Celts,  who  turned  out 
upon  the  occasion,  under  the  leading  of  Cluny  Macpherson,  a  fine 
spirited  lad.  Mons  Meg  is  a  monument  of  our  pride  and  poverty. 
The  size  is  immense,  but  six  smaller  guns  would  have  been  made  at 
the  same  expense,  and  done  six  times  as  much  execution  as  she  could 
have  done.  There  was  immense  interest  taken  in  the  show  by  the 
people  of  the  town,  and  the  numbers  who  crowded  the  Castle-hill 
had  a  magnificent  appearance.  About  thirty  of  our  Celts  attended 
in  costume ;  and  as  there  was  a  Highland  regiment  on  duty,  with 
dragoons  and  artillerymen,  the  whole  made  a  splendid  show.  The 
dexterity  with  which  the  last  manned  and  wrought  the  windlass  which 
raised  old  Meg,  weighing  seven  or  eight  tons,  from  her  temporary 

1  Tempest,  Act  IT.  Sc.  1.  (Stephano).  1822,  and  the  kin<r  gracefully  surprised  him  by 

8  This  gentleman  was  a  favourite  with  Sir  proposing  his  health  at  the  civic  banquet  in  the 

AValtcr — a  special  point  of  communion  being  Parliament  House,  as  "Sir  William  Arbuthno 

the  antiquities  of  the  British  drama.     Ho  was  Baronet." — j.  G.  L. 

Provost  of  Edinburgh  in  1816-17,  and  again  in          3  John  Hope,  afterwards  Lord  Justice-Cler 


1829.]  JOURNAL  437 

carriage  to  that  which  has  been  her  basis  for  many  years,  was  singu- 
larly beautiful  as  a  combined  exhibition  of  skill  and  strength.  My 
daughter  had  what  might  have  proved  a  frightful  accident.  Some 
rockets  were  let  off,  one  of  which  lighted  upon  her  head,  and  set  her 
bonnet  on  fire.  She  neither  screamed  nor  ran,  but  quietly  permitted 
Charles  K.  Sharpe  to  extinguish  the  fire,  which  he  did  with  great 
coolness  and  dexterity.  All  who  saw  her,  especially  the  friendly 
Celts,  gave  her  merit  for  her  steadiness,  and  said  she  came  of  good 
blood.  I  was  very  glad  and  proud  of  her  presence  of  mind.  My 
own  courage  was  not  put  to  the  test,  for  being  at  some  distance, 
escorting  the  beautiful  and  lively  Countess  of  Hopetoun,  I  did  not 
hear  of  the  accident  till  it  was  over.  We  lunched  with  the  regiment 
(73d)  now  in  the  Castle.  The  little  entertainment  gave  me  an  op- 
portunity of  observing  what  I  have  often  before  remarked — the  im- 
provement in  the  character  of  the  young  and  subaltern  officers  in  the 
army,  which  in  the  course  of  a  long  and  bloody  war  had  been,  in 
point  of  rank  and  manners,  something  deteriorated.  The  number  of 
persons  applying  for  commissions  (3000  being  now  on  the  lists)  gives 
an  opportunity  of  selection,  and  officers  should  certainly  be  gentle- 
men, with  a  complete  opening  to  all  who  can  rise  by  merit.  The  style 
in  which  duty,  and  the  knowledge  of  their  profession,  is  enforced, 
prevents  faineants  from  long  remaining  in  the  profession. 

In  the  evening  I  presided  at  the  Celtic  Club,  who  received  me 
with  their  usual  partiality.  I  like  this  society,  and  willingly  give  my- 
self to  be  excited  by  the  sight  of  handsome  young  men  with  plaids 
and  claymores,  and  all  the  alertness  and  spirit  of  Highlanders  in  their 
native  garb.  There  was  the  usual  degree  of  excitation — excellent 
dancing,  capital  songs,  a  general  inclination  to  please  and  to  be  pleased. 
A  severe  cold,  caught  on  the  battlements  of  the  Castle,  prevented  me 
from  playing  first  fiddle  so  well  as  usual,  but  what  I  could  do  was 
received  with  the  usual  partiality  of  the  Celts.  I  got  home,  fatigued 
and  vino  gravatus,  about  eleven  o'clock.  We  had  many  guests,  some 
of  whom,  English  officers,  seemed  both  amused  and  surprised  at  our 
wild  ways,  especially  at  the  dancing  without  ladies,  and  the  mode  of 
drinking  favourite  toasts,  by  springing  up  with  one  foot  on  the  bench 
and  one  on  the  table,  and  the  peculiar  shriek  of  applause  so  unlike 
English  cheering. 

March  10. — This  may  be  a  short  day  in  the  diary,  though  a  busy 
one  to  me.  I  arranged  books  and  papers  in  the  morning,  and  went 
to  Court  after  breakfast,  where,  as  Sir  Robert  Dundas  and  I  had  the 
whole  business  to  discharge,  I  remained  till  two  or  three.  Then  vis- 
ited Cadell,  and  transacted  some  pecuniary  matters. 

March  11,  [Abbotsford], — I  had,  as  usual,  a  sort  of  levee  the  day 
I  was  to  leave  town,  all  petty  bills  and  petty  business  being  reserved 
to  the  last  by  those  who  might  as  well  have  applied  any  one  day  of 
the  present  month.  But  I  need  not  complain  of  what  happens  to  my 
betters,  for  on  the  last  day  of  the  Session  there  pours  into  the  Court 


438  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

a  succession  of  trifles  which  give  the  Court,  and  especialjy  the  Clerks, 
much  trouble,  insomuch  that  a  ci-devant  brother  of  mine  proposed 
that  the  last  day  of  the  Session  should  be  abolished  by  Statute.  We 
got  out  of  Court  at  a  quarter-past  one,  and  got  to  Abbotsford  at  half- 
past  seven,  cold  and  hungry  enough  to  make  Scots  broth,  English 
roast  beef,  and  a  large  fire  very  acceptable. 

March  12. — I  set  apart  this  day"  for  trifles  and  dawdling;  yet  I 
meditate  doing  something  on  the  Popish  and  Protestant  affray.  I 
think  I  could  do  some  good,  and  I  have  the  sincere  wish  to  do  it. 
I  heard  the  merry  birds  sing,  reviewed  my  dogs,  and  was  cheerful. 
I  also  unpacked  books.  Deuce  take  arrangement !  I  think  it  the 
most  complete  bore  in  the  world ;  but  I  will  try  a  little  of  it.  I  after- 
wards went  out  and  walked  till  dinner-time.  I  read  Reginald  Heber's 
Journal1  after  dinnar.  I  spent  some  merry  days  with  him  at  Oxford 
when  he  was  writing  his  prize  poem.  He  was  then  a  gay  young  fel- 
low, a  wit,  and  a  satirist,  and  burning  for  literary  fame.  My  laurels 
were  beginning  to  bloom,  and  we  were  both  madcaps.  Who  would 
have  foretold  our  future  lot  ? 

"  Oh,  little  did  my  mither  ken 

The  day  she  cradled  me 
The  land  I  was  to  travel  in, 
Or  the  death  I  was  to  die."  2 

March  13. — Wrought  at  a  review  of  Fraser  Tytler's  History  of 
Scotland.  It  is  somewhat  saucy  towards  Lord  Hailes.  I  had  almost 
stuck  myself  into  the  controversy  Slough  of  Despond — the  contro- 
versy, that  is,  between  the  Gothic  and  Celtic  system — but  cast  my- 
self, like  Christian,  with  a  strong  struggle  or  two  to  the  further  side 
of  this  Slough ;  and  now  will  I  walk  on  my  way  rejoicing — not  on 
my  article,  however,  but  to  the  fields.  .Came  home  and  rejoiced  at 
dinner.  After  tea  I  worked  a  little  more.  I  began  to  warm  in  my 
gear,  and  am  about  to  awake  the  whole  controversy  of  Goth  and  Celt. 
I  wisli  I  may  not  make  some  careless  blunders.8 

March  14. — Up  at  eight,  rather  of  the  latest — then  fagged  at  my 
review,  both  before  and  after  breakfast.  I  walked  from  one  o'clock 
till  near  three.  I  make  it  out,  I  think,  rather  better  than  of  late  I 
have  been  able  to  do  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  where  I  am  ashamed 
to  walk  so  slow  as  would  suit  me.  Indeed  nothing  but  a  certain  sus- 
picion, that  once  drawn  up  on  the  beach  I  would  soon  break  up,  pre- 
vents me  renouncing  pedestrian  exercises  altogether,  for  it  is  positive 
suffering,  and  of  an  acute  kind  too. 

March  15. — Altogether  like  yesterday.  Wrote  in  the  morning — 
breakfasted — wrote  again  till  one — out  and  walked  about  two  hours 

1  Narrative  of  a  Journey  through  the  tapper  garding  Falconer,  author  of  The  SfiipwrecTc. — 

Provinces  of  India,  2  vols.  4to,  1828.  Currie's  Burns,  vol.  ii.  p.  290. 

*  Old  Ballad  (known  as  '-Marie  Hamilton")  3  sec  Quart.  Rev.,  Nov.  1829,  or  Misc.  PTOK 

quoted  by  Burns  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  re-  Works,  xxi.  152-198. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  439 

— to  the  quills  once  more — dinner — smoked  a  brace  of  cigars  and 
looked  on  the  fire — a  page  of  writing,  and  so  to  bed. 

March  16. — Day  sullen  and  bitter  cold.  I  fear  it  brings  chilblains 
on  its  wings.  A  dashing  of  snow,  in  thin  flakes,  wandering  from  the 
horizon,  and  threatening  a  serious  fall.  As  the  murderer  says  to 
Banquo,  "  Let  it  come  down !" — we  shall  have  the  better  chance  of 
fair  weather  hereafter.  It  cleared  up,  however,  and  I  walked  from 
one,  or  thereabout,  till  within  a  quarter  of  four.  A  card  from  Mr. 
Dempster  of  Skibo,1  whose  uncle,  George  Dempster,  I  knew  many 
years  since,  a  friend  of  Johnson,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  all  that 
set — a  fine  good-humoured  old  gentleman.  Young  Mrs.  Dempster  is 
a  daughter  of  my  early  friend  and  patron,  Robert  Dundas  of  Amis- 
ton,  Lord  Advocate,  and  I  like  her  for  his  sake.  Mr.  Dempster  is 
hunting,  and  I  should  have  liked  to  have  given  his  wife  and  sister 
refuge  during  the  time  he  must  spend  over  moss  and  moor.  But  the 
two  Annes  going  to  Edinburgh  to  a  fancy 'ball  makes  it  impossible 
till  they  return  on  Friday  night. 

March  17. — The  Annes  went  off  at  eight,  morning.  After  break- 
fast I  drove  down  to  Melrose  and  waited  on  Mrs.  and  Miss  Dempster, 
and  engaged  them  for  Saturday.  Weather  bitter  cold ;  yea,  atrocious- 
ly so.  Naboclish — the  better  for  work.  Ladies  whose  husbands  love 
fox-hunting  are  in  a  poor  way.  Here  are  two  pleasant  and  pretty 
women  pegged  up  the  whole  day 

"  In  the  worst  inn's  worst  room  "  * 

for  the  whole  twenty-four  hours  without  interruption.  They  manage 
the  matter  otherwise  in  France,  where  ladies  are  the  lords  of  the  as- 
cendant. I  returned  from  my  visit  to  my  solitary  work  and  solitary 
meal.  I  eked  out  the  last  two  hours'  length  by  dint  of  smoking, 
which  I  find  a  sedative  without  being  a  stimulant. 

March  18. — *I  like  the  hermit  life  indifferent  well,  nor  would,  I 
sometimes  think,  break  my  heart,  were  I  to  be  in  that  magic  mount- 
ain where  food  was  regularly  supplied  by  ministering  genii,3  and 
plenty  of  books  were  accessible  without  the  least  intervention  of  hu- 
man society.  But  this  is  thinking  like  a  fool.  Solitude  is  only  agree- 
able when  the  power  of  having  society  is  removed  to  a  short  space, 
and  can  be  commanded  at  pleasure.  "  It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be 
alone."  It  blunts  our  faculties  and  freezes  our  active  virtues.  And 
flow,  my  watch  pointing  to  noon,  I  think  after  four  hours'  work  I 
may  indulge  myself  with  a  walk.  The  dogs  see  me  about  to  shut  my 
desk,  and  intimate  their  happiness  by  caresses  and  whining.  By  your 

1  George  Dempster  of  Skibo,  one  of  the  few  associations  of  Knox,  Wishart,  and  Buchanan, 

men  connecting  Scott  with  this  generation,  he  was  the  gracious  host  to  a  large  circle  of 

died  in  Edinburgh  on  the  6th   of  February,  friends. 

1889.     This  accomplished  Scottish  gentleman  „  PoDe,g  Mora 

had  for  many  years  made  his  home  at  Ormis-  L  ope  s  Mora 

ton,  where,  in  the  old  mansion-house,  rich  in  s  Ante,  p.  204  n. 


440  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

leave,  Messrs.  Genii  of  the  Mountain  library,  if  I  come  to  your  retreat 
I'll  bring  my  dogs  with  me. 

The  day  was  showery,  but  not  unpleasant — soft  dropping  rains, 
attended  by  a  mild  atmosphere,  that  spoke  of  flowers  in  their  seasons, 
and  a  chirping  of  birds  that  had  a  touch  of  Spring  in  it.  I  had  the 
patience  to  get  fully  wet,  and  the  grace  to  be  thankful  for  it. 

Come !  a  leetle  flourish  on  the  trumpet.  Let  us  rouse  the  genius 
of  this  same  red  mountain,  so  called  because  it  is  all  the  year  covered 
with  roses.  There  can  be  no  ditticulty  in  finding  it,  for  it  lies  tow- 
ards the  Caspian,  and  is  quoted  in  the  Persian  tales.  Well,  I  open 
my  Ephemerides,  form  my  scheme  under  the  suitable  planet,  and  the 
genie  obeys  the  invocation  and  appears. 

Genie  is  a  misshapen  dwarf,  with  a  huge  jolter-head  like  that  of 
Boerhave  on  the  Bridge,1  his  limbs  and  body  marvellously  shrunk  and 
disproportioned. 

"  Sir  Dwarf,"  said  I,  undauntedly,  "  thy  head  is  very  large,  and 
thy  feet  and  limbs  somewhat  small  in  proportion." 

Genie.  "  I  have  crammed  my  head,  even  to  the  overflowing,  with 
knowledge ;  I  have  starved  my  limbs  by  disuse  of  exercise  and  denial 
of  sustenance  !" 

Author.     "  Can  I  acquire  wisdom  in  thy  solitary  library  ?" 

G.     "  Thou  mayest !" 

A.     "  On  what  conditions  ?" 

G.  "  Renounce  all  gross  and  fleshly  pleasure,  eat  pulse  and  drink 
water,  converse  with  none  but  the  wise  and  learned,  alive  and 
dead !" 

A.     "  Why,  this  were  to  die  in  the  cause  of  wisdom." 

G.  "  If  you  desire  to  draw  from  our  library  only  the  advantage 
of  seeming  wise,  you  may  have  it  consistent  with  all  your  favourite 
enjoyments !" 


A. 
G. 
A. 

of  wine  ? 
G. 


'  How  much  sleep  ?" 

'  A  Lapland  night — eight  months  out  of  the.  twelve  !" 

'  Enough  for  a  dormouse,  most  generous  Genius. — A  bottle 
> 

1  Two,  if  you  please ;  but  you  must  not  seem  to  care  for 
them — cigars  in  loads,  whisky  in  lashings ;  but  they  must  be  taken 
with  aii  air  of  contempt,  a  floccipaucinihilipilification  of  all  that  can 
gratify  the  outward  man." 

A.  "  I  am  about  to  ask  you  a  serious  question — When  you  have 
stuffed  your  stomach,  drunk  your  bottle,  smoked  your  cigar,  how  are 
you  to  keep  yourself  awake  ?" 

G.     "  Either  by  ce.pb.alic  snuff  or  castle-building !" 
A.     "Do  you  approve  of  castle  -  building  as  a  frequent  exer- 
cise r 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  says,  writing  in  1839:— "This  the  venerable  bust  in  question  was  once  dis- 

head  may  still  be  seen  over  a  laboratory  at  No.  lodged  by  '  Colonel  Grogg '  and  some  of  his  com- 

100  South  Bridge,   Edinburgh.      [It  has  since  panions,  and  waggishly  placed  in  a  very  inap- 

been  removed.]   N.B.  There  is  a  tradition  that  propriate  position." 


1829.J  JOURNAL  441 

G.     "  Life  were  not  life  without  it ! 

'  Give  me  the  joy  that  sickens  not  the  heart, 
Give  me  the  wealth  that  has  no  wings  to  fly.'" 

A.  "  I  reckon  myself  one  of  the  best  aerial  architects  now  liv- 
ing, and  nil  me  pcenitet  hujus." 

G.  "  Nee  est  cur  te  poeniteat;  most  of  your  novels  have  previous- 
ly been  subjects  for  airy  castles." 

A.  "  You  have  me — and  moreover  a  man  of  imagination  derives 
experience  from  such  imaginary  situations.  There  are  few  situations 
in  which  I  have  not  in  fancy  figured,  and  there  are  few,  of  course, 
which  I  am  not  previously  prepared  to  take  some  part. in." 

G.  "  True,  but  I  am  afraid  your  having  fancied  yourself  victo- 
rious in  many  a  fight  would  be  of  little  use  were  you  suddenly  called 
to  the  field,  and  your  personal  infirmities  and  nervous  agitations  both 
rushing  upon  you  and  incapacitating  you."  . 

A.  "  My  nervous  agitations  ! — away  with  thee  !  Down,  down  to 
Limbo  and  the  burning  lake  !  False  fiend,  avoid !" 

So  there  ends  the  tale, 
With  a  hey,  with  a  hoy, 
So  there  ends  the  tale, 

With  a  ho. 

There  is  a  moral.     If  you  fail 
To  seize  it  by  the  tail, 
Its  import  will  exhale, 
You  must  know. 

March  19. —  The  above  was  written  yesterday  before  dinner, 
though  appearances  are  to  the  contrary.  I  only  meant  that  the  stu- 
dious solitude  I  have  sometimes  dreamed  of,  unless  practised  with 
rare  stoicism  and  privation,  was  apt  to  degenerate  into  secret  sensual 
indulgences  of  coarser  appetites,  which,  when  the  cares  and  restraints 
of  social  life  are  removed,  are  apt  to  make  us  think,  with  Dr.  John- 
son, our  dinner  the  most  important  event  of  the  day.  So  much  in  the 
way  of  explanation — a  humour  which  I  love,  not.  Go  to. 

My  girls  returned  from  Edinburgh  with  full  news  of  their  bal 
pare. 

March  20. — We  spent  this  day  on  the  same  terms  as  formerly. 
I  wrought,  walked,  dined,  drank,  and  smoked  upon  the  same  pat- 
tern. 

March  21. — To-day  brought  Mrs.  Dempster  and  her  sister-in-law. 
To  dinner  came  Robert  Dundas  of  Arniston  from  the  hunting-field, 
and  with  him  Mr.  Dempster  of  Skibo,  both  favourites  of  mine.  Mr. 
Stuart,  the  grand-nephew  of  my  dear  friend  Lady  Louisa,  also  dined 
with  us,  together  with  the  Lyons  from  Gattonside,  and  the  day  passed 
over  in  hospitality  and  social  happiness. 

March  22. — Being  Sunday,  I  read  prayers  to  our  guests,  then 
went  a  long  walk"  by  the  lake  to  Huntly  Burn.  It  is  somewhat  un- 


442  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

comfortable  to  feel  difficulties  increase  and  the  strength  to  meet  them 
diminish.  But  why  should  man  fret?  While  iron  is  dissolved  by 
rust,  and  brass  corrodes,  can  our  dreams  be  of  flesh  and  blood  endur- 
ing ?  But  I  will  not  dwell  on  this  depressing  subject.  My  liking  to 
my  two  young  guests  is  founded  on  "  things  that  are  long  enough 
ago."  The  first  statesman  of  celebrity  whom  I  personally  knew  was 
Mr.  Dempster's  grand-uncle,  George  Dempster  of  Dunnichen,  cele- 
brated in  his  time,  and  Dundas's  father  was,  when  Lord  Advocate,  the 
first  man  of  influence  who  showed  kindness  to  me. 

March  23. — Arrived  to  breakfast  one  of  the  Courland  nobility, 
Baron  A.  von  Meyersdorff,  a  fine,  lively,  spirited  young  man,  fond  of 
his  country  and  incensed  at  its  degradation  under  Russia.  He  talked 
much  of  the  orders  of  chivalry  who  had  been  feudal  lords  of  Livonia, 
especially  the  order  of  Porte  Glaive,  to  which  his  own  ancestors  had 
belonged.  If  he  report  correctly,  there  is  a  deep  principle  of  action 
at  work  in  Germany,  Poland,  Russia,  etc.,  which,  if  it  does  "  not  die 
in  thinking,"  will  one  day  make  an  explosion.  The  Germans  are  a 
nation,  however,  apt  to  exhaust  themselves  in  speculation.  The  Baron 
has  enthusiasm,  and  is  well  read  in  English  and  foreign  literature.  I 
kept  my  state  till  one,  and  wrote  notes  to  Croker  upon  Boswell's  Scot- 
tish tour.  It  was  an  act  of  friendship,  for  time  is  something  of  a 
scarce  article  with  me.  But  Croker  has  been  at  all  times  personally 
kind  and  actively  serviceable  to  me,  and  he  must  always  command 
my  best  assistance.  Then  I  walked  with  the  Baron  as  far  as  the  Lake. 
Our  sportsmen  came  in  good  time  to  dinner,  and  our  afternoon  was 
pleasant. 

March  24. — This  morning  our  sportsmen  took  leave,  and  their 
ladykind  (to  rencherir  on  Anthony  a- Wood  and  Mr.  Oldbuck)  fol- 
lowed after  breakfast,  and  I  went  to  my  work  till  one,  and  at  that 
hour  treated  the  Baron  to  another  long  walk,  with  which  he  seemed 
highly  delighted.  He  tells  me  that  my  old  friend  the  Princess  Ga- 
litzin1  is  dead.  After  dinner  I  had  a  passing  visit  from  Kinnear,  to 
bid  me  farewell.  This  very  able  and  intelligent  young  man,  so  able 
to  throw  a  grace  over  commercial  pursuits,  by  uniting  them  with  lit- 
erature, is  going  with  his  family  to  settle  in  London.  I  do  not  won- 
der at  it.  His  parts  are  of  a  kind  superior  to  the  confined  sphere  in 
which  he  moves  in  Scotland.  In  London,  he  says,  there  is  a  rapid 
increase  of  business  and  its  opportunities.  Thus  London  licks  the 
butter  off  our  bread,  by  opening  a  better  market  for  ambition.  WTere 
it  not  for  the  difference  of  the  religion  and  laws,  poor  Scotland  could 
hardly  keep  a  man  that  is  worth  having ;  and  yet  men  will  not  see 
this.  I  took  leave  of  Kinnear,  with  hopes  for  his  happiness  and  fort- 
une, but  yet  with  some  regret  for  the  sake  of  the  country  which  loses 
him.  The  Baron  agreed  to  go  with  Kinnear  to  Kelso  :  and  exit  with 
the  usual  demonstrations  of  German  enthusiasm. 

>  Fenimore  Cooper  told  Scott  that  the  Prin-      1827  from  the  picture  taken  in  Paris.     [Mme. 
cess  had  had  Sir  Walter's  portrait  engraved  in      Mirbel's  miniature?] 


1829.]  JOURNAL  443 

March  25. — I  worked  in  the  morning,  and  think  I  have  sent  Cro- 
ker  a  packet  which  may  be  useful,  and  to  Lockhart  a  critique  on 
rather  a  dry  topic,  viz. :  the  ancient  Scottish  History.  I  remember 
R.  Ainslie,  commonly  called  the  plain  man,  who  piqued  himself  on 
his  powers  of  conversation,  striving  to  strike  fire  from  some  old  flinty 
wretch  whom  he  found  in  a  corner  of  a  public  coach,  at  length  ad- 
dressed him  :  "  Friend,  I  have  tried  you  on  politics,  literary  matters, 
religion,  fashionable  news,  etc.,  etc.,  and  all  to  no  purpose."  The  dry 
old  rogue,  twisting  his  muzzle  into  an  infernal  grin,  replied,  "  Can  you 
claver  about  bend  leather  ?"  The  man,  be  it  understood,  was  a  leath- 
er merchant.  The  early  history  of  Caledonia  is  almost  as  hopeless  a 
subject,  but  off  it  goes.  I  walked  up  the  Glen  with  Tom  for  my 
companion.  Dined,  heard  Anne  reading  a  paper  of  anecdotes  about 
Cluny  Macpherson,  and  so  to  bed. 

March  26. — As  I  have  been  so  lately  Johnsonizing,  I  should  de- 
rive, if  possible,  some  personal  use.  Johnson-  advises  Boswell  to  keep 
a  diary,  and  to  omit  registers  of  the  weather,  and  like  trumpery.  I 
am  resolved  in  future  not  to  register  what  is  yet  more  futile — my 
gleams  of  bright  and  clouded  temper.  Boswell — whose  nerves  were, 
one  half  madness,  and  half  affectation — has  thrummed  upon  this  topic 
till  it  is  threadbare.  I  have  at  this  moment  forty  things  to  do,  and 
great  inclination  to  do  none  of  them.  I  ended  by  working  till  two, 
walking  till  five,  writing  letters,  and  so  to  bed. 

March  27. — Letters  again.  Let  me  see.  I  wrote  to  Lord  Mon- 
tagu about  Scott  of  Beirlaw's  commission,  in  which  Invernahyle  in- 
terests himself.  Item,  to  a  lady  who  is  pestering  me  about  a  Miss 
Campbell  sentenced  to  transportation  for  stealing  a  silver  spoon. 
Item,  to  John  Eckford.  Item,  to  James  Loch,  to  get  an  appointment 
for  Sandie  Ballantyne's  son.  Not  one,  as  Dangle  says,1  about  any 
business  of  my  own.  My  correspondence  is  on  a  most  disinterested 
footing.  This  lasts  till  past  eleven,  then  enters  my  cousin  R.,  and 
remains  for  two  hours,  till  politics,  family  news,  talk  of  the  neigh- 
borhood are  all  exhausted,  and  two  or  three  reputations  torn  to  pieces 
in  the  scouring  of  them.  At  length  I  walk  him  out  about  a  mile, 
and  come  back  from  that  tmpechement.  But  it  is  only  to  find  Mr. 
[Henry]  C[ranstoun],2  my  neighbour,  in  the  parlour  with  the  girls,  and 
there  is  another  sederunt  of  an  hour.  Well,  such  things  must  be, 
and  our  friends  mean  them  as  civility,  and  we  must  take  and  give  the 
currency  of  the  country.  But  I  am  diddled  out  of  a  day  all  the  same. 
The  ladies  came  from  Huntly  Burn,  and  cut  off  the  evening.3 

>  See  Sheridan's  Critic.  quiet  since  Saturday.— The  letter  was  utterly 

4  Lord  Corehouse's  brother.  forgotten  till  this  recalled  it  to  remembrance. 

3  Room  may  be  made  for  part  of  one  of  the  Ergo,  there  was  no  sort  of  call  on  the  Duke 

letters   received   by  this    morning's  mail,    in  after  beating  Buonaparte  to  go  to  war  with  a 

which,  after  much  interesting  family  detail,  booby.    But  he  could  not  stand  the  fling  at  the 

his  son-in-law  describes  the  duel  which  took  fair.     His  correspondence  seems  admirable  ev- 

place  between  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  cry  way,  and  the  whole  affair  was  gone  through 

Lord  Winchelsea: — "There  is  no  reason  to  ex-  in  excellent  taste, — the  Duke  and  Hardinge 

pect  a  duel  every  day,  and  all  has  been  very  trotting  out,  the  two  peaceful  lords  rumbling 


444  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

March  28. — In  spite  of  the  temptation  of  a  fine  morning,  I  toiled 
manfully  at  the  review  till  two  o'clock,  commencing  at  seven.  I  fear 
it  will  be  uninteresting,  but  I  like  the  muddling  work  of  antiquities, 
and,  besides,  wish  to  record  my  sentiments  with  regard  to  the  Gothic 
question.  No  one  that  has  not  laboured  as  I  have  done  on  imaginary 
topics  can  judge  of  the  comfort  a-fforded  by  walking  on  all-fours,  and 
being  grave  and  dull.  I  dare  say,  when  the  clown  of  the  pantomime 
escapes  from  his  nightly  task  of  vivacity,  it  is  his  special  comfort  to 
smoke  a  pipe  and  be  prosy  with  some  good-natured  fellow,  the  dullest 
of  his  acquaintance.  I  have  seen  such  a  tendency  in  Sir  Adam  Fer- 
guson, the  gayest  man  I  ever  knew ;  and  poor  Tom  Sheridan  has 
complained  to  me  of  the  fatigue  of  supporting  the  character  of  an 
agreeable  companion. 

March  29. — I  wrote,  read,  and  walked  with  the  most  stoical  regu- 
larity. This  muddling  among  old  books  has  the  quality  of  a  sedative, 
and  saves  the  tear  and  wear  of  an  overwrought  brain.  I  wandered  on 
the  hills  pleasantly  enough  and  concluded  a  pleasant  and  laborious  day. 

March  30. — I  finished  the  remainder  of  the  criticism  and  sent  it 
off.  Pray  Heaven  it  break  not  the  mail  coach  down. 

Lord  and  Lady  Dalhousie,  and  their  relation,  Miss  Ilawthorne, 
came  to  dinner,  to  meet  whom  we  had  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Brewster.  Lord 
Dalhousie  has  more  of  the  Caledonian  prisca  fides  than  any  man  I 
know  now  alive.  He  has  served  his  country  in  all  quarters  of  the 
world  and  in  every  climate ;  yet,  though  my  contemporary,  looks  ten 
years  my  junior.  He  laughed  at  the  idea  of  rigid  temperance,  and 
held  an  occasional  skirmish  no  bad  thing  even  in  the  West  Indies, 
thinking,  perhaps,  with  Armstrong,  of  "  the  rare  debauch." '  In  all 
incidents  of  life  he  has  been  the  same  steady,  honest,  true-hearted 
Lord  Dalhousie,  that  Lordie  Ramsay  promised  to  be  when  at  the 
High  School.  How  few  such  can  I  remember,  and  how  poorly  have 
honesty  and  valour  been  rewarded !  Here,  at  the  time  when  most 
men  think  of  repose,  he  is  bundled  off  to  command  in  India.2  Would 
it  had  been  the  Chief  Governorship  !  But  to  have  remained  at  home 
would  have  been  bare  livelihood,  and  that  is  all.  I  asked  him  what 
he  thought  of  "  strangling  a  nabob,  and  rifling  his  jewel  closet,"  and 
he  answered,  "  No,  no,  an  honest  man."  I  fear  we  must  add,  a  poor 
one.  Lady  Dalhousie,  formerly  Miss  Brown  of  Coalstoun,  is  an  ami- 
able, intelligent,  and  lively  woman,  who  does  not  permit  society  to 
"  cream  and  mantle  like  a  standing  pool." s 

down  in  a  coach  and  four.    The  Duke  had  no  transacted  business  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  then 

half-pence  and  was  followed  and  bothered  for  said,  '  By-the-by,  I  was  forgetting  I  have  had  a 

some  time  by  the  tollman  on  Battersea  Bridge,  field-day  with  Lord  W.  this  morning.'    They 

when  Hardinge  fished  out  some  silver  or  a  say  the  King  rowed  Arthur  much  for  exposing 

groom  came  up.    There  were  various  market  himself  at  such  a  crisis. " 

gardeners  on  the  road,  who,  when  Lord  Win-  i  Art  Of  preserving  Health,  book  ii. 

S±?^^%tffi^ffl'±aS^  h  •  Ceorge  Ramsay,  Ear,  of  DaHiousie ,  had  just 

nature's  weapons.    The  moment  all  was  done  *«en  appointed  Commanderm-Chiefm  the  1-  us 

the  Duke  clapped  spurs  to  his  horse  and  was  Indies;  which  office  he  held  till  1832.    He  died 

back  in  Downing  Street  within  the  two  hours, 

breakfasted,   and  off  to  Windsor,   where  ho  8  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  I.  Sc.  1. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  445 

The  weather,  drifting  and  surly,  does  not  permit  us  to  think  of 
Melrose,  and  I  could  only  fight  round  the  thicket  with  Dr.  Brewster 
and  his  lordship.  Lord  Dalhousie  gave  me  some  interesting  ac- 
counts of  the  American  Indians.  They  are,  according  to  his  lordship, 
decaying  fast  in  numbers  and  principle.  Lork  Selkirk's  property 
now  makes  large  returns,  from  the  stock  of  the  North  West  Com- 
pany and  Hudson's  Bay  Companies  having  united.  I  learned  from 
Lord  Dalhousie  that  he  had  been  keeping  a  diary  since  the  year 
1800.  Should  his  narrative  ever  see  the  light,  what  a  contrast  will  it 
form  to  the  flourishing  vapouring  accounts  of  most  of  the  French 
merchants  !  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skene  with  their  daughter  Kitty,  who  has 
been  indisposed,  came  to  dinner,  and  the  party  was  a  well-assorted 
one. 


APRIL 

April  1. — A  pretty  first  of  April  truly  ;  the  hills  white  with  snow, 
I  myself  as  bilious  as  a  dog.  My  noble  guests  left  about  noon.  I 
wrote  letters,  as  if  I  had  not  bile  enough  in  my  bosom  already,  and 
did  not  go  out  to  face  the  snow  wreaths  till  half-past  two,  when  I  am 
resolved  to  make  a  brush  for  exercise.  There  will  be  fine  howling 
among  the  dogs,  for  I  am  about  to  shut  my  desk.  Found  Mrs. 
Skene  disposed  to  walk,  so  I  had  the  advantage  of  her  company.  The 
snow  lay  three  inches  thick  on  the  ground ;  but  we  had  the  better  ap- 
petite for  dinner,  after  which  we  talked  and  read  without  my  lifting 
a  pen. 

April  2. — Begins  with  same  brilliant  prospect  of  snow  and  sun- 
shine dazzling  to  the  eyes  and  chilling  to  the  fingers,  a  beastly  disa- 
greeable coldness  in  the  air.  I  stuck  by  the  pen  till  one,  then  took 
a  drive  with  the  ladies  as  far  as  Chiefswood  and  walked  home. 
Young  William  Forbes1  came,  and  along  with  him  a  Southron,  Mr. 
Cleasby. 

April  3. — Still  the  same  party.  I  fagged  at  writing  letters  to  Lock- 
hart,  to  Charles,  and  to  John  Gibson,  to  Mr.  Cadell,  Croker,  Lord  Had- 
dington,  and  others.  Lockhart  has  had  an  overture  through  Croker 
requesting  him  to  communicate  with  some  newspaper  on  the  part  of 
the  Government,  which  he  has  wisely  declined.  Nothing  but  a  thor- 
ough-going blackguard  ought  to  attempt  the  daily  press,  unless  it  is 
some  quiet  country  diurnal.  Lockhart  has  also  a  wicked  wit  which 
would  make  an  office  of  this  kind  more  dangerous  to  him  than  to 
downright  dulness.  I  am  heartily  glad  he  has  refused  it.* 

1  Son  of  Lord  Medwyn.  Mr.  Forbes  had  late-  do  anything  for  it?  I  said  I  was  as  well  in- 
ly returned  from  Italy,  where  he  had  had  as  clined  to  serve  the  Duke  as  he  could  be,  but  it 
travelling  companion  Mr.  Cleasby,  and  it  was  must  be  in  other  fashion.  He  then  said  he 
owing  to  Mr.  Forbes's  recommendation  that  agreed  with  me — but  there  was  a  second  ques- 
Mr.  Cleasby  came  to  Kdinburgh  to  pursue  his  tion:  Could  I  find  them  an  editor,  and  under- 
studies. Mr.  Forbes  possessed  a  fine  tenor  take  to  communicate  between  them  and  him— 
voice,  and  his  favourite  songs  at  that  time  were  in  short,  save  the  Treasury  the  inconvenience 
the  Neapolitan  and  Calabrian  canzonetti,  to  of  maintaining  an  avowed  intercourse  with  the 
which  Sir  Walter  alludes  under  April  4.  Newspaper  press?  He  said  he  himself  had  for 

8  Mr.  Lockhart's  own  account  of  the  over-  some  years  done  this— then  others.  I  said  I 

ture  is  sufficiently  amusing  and  characteristic  would  endeavour  to  think  of  a  man  for  their 

of  the  men  and  the  times: —  turn  and  would  call  on  him  soon  again. 

"I  had  not  time  to  write  more  than  a  line  "I  have  considered  the  matter  at  leisure, 

the  other  day  under  Croker's  cover,  having  re-  and  resolve  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 

ceived  it  just  at  post  time.  He  sent  for  me;  I  They  CAN  only  want  me  as  a  writer.  Any  un- 

found  him  in  his  nightcap  at  the  Admiralty,  derstrapper  M.P.  would  do  well  enough  forcar- 

colded  badly,  but  in  audacious  spirits.  His  rying  hints  to  a  newspaper  office,  and  I  will  not, 

business  was  this.  The  Duke  of  \V[ellingto]n  even  to  secure  the  Duke,  mix  myself  up  with 

finds  himself  without  one  newspaper  he  can  the  newspapers.  That  work  it  is  which  Im?; 

depend  on.  He  wishes  to  buy  up  some  even-  damned  Croker,  and  I  can't  afford  to  sacrifice 

ing  print,  such  as  the  dull  Star;  and  could  1  the  advantage  which  1  feel  I  have  gained  in 


APRIL,  1829.]  JOURNAL  447 

Sir  James  Mackintosh  and  Lord  Haddington  have  spoken  very 
handsomely  of  my  accession  to  the  Catholic  Petition,  and  I  think  it 
has  done  some  good ;  yet  I  am  not  confident  that  the  measure  will 
disarm  the  Catholic  spleen.1  And  I  was  not  entirely  easy  at  finding 
myself  allied  to  the  Whigs,  even  in  thic  instance,  where  I  agree  with 
them.  This  is  witless  prejudice,  however. 

My  walk  to-day  was  up  the  Rhymer's  Glen  with  Skene.  Colonel 
Ferguson  dined  with  us. 

April  4. — Mr.  Cleasby  left  this  morning.  He  has  travelled  much, 
and  is  a  young  man  of  copious  conversation  and  ready  language,  aim- 
ing I  suppose  at  Parliament.2  William  Forbes  is  singing  like  an  an- 
gel in  the  next  room,  but  he  sings  only  Italian  music,  which  says 
naught  to  me.  I  have  a  letter  from  one  David  Patterson,  who  was 
Dr.  Knox's  jackal  for  buying  murdered  bodies,  suggesting  that  I 
should  write  on  the  subject  of  Burke  and  Hare,  and  offering  me  his 
invaluable  collection  of  anecdotes !  "  Curse  him  imperance  and  him 
dam  insurance,"3  as  Mungo  says  in  the  farce.  *  Did  ever  one  hear  the 
like  ?  The  scoundrel  has  been  the  companion  and  patron  of  such 
atrocious  murderers  and  kidnappers,  and  he  has  the  impudence  to 
write  to  any  decent  man ! 

Corrected  proof-sheets  and  dedication  of  the  Magnum  and  sent 
them  off. 

April  5. — Read  prayers  to  what  remains  of  our  party :  being  Anne, 
my  niece  Anne,  the  four  Skenes,  and  William  Forbes.  We  then 
walked,  and  I  returned  time  enough  to  work  a  little  at  the  criticism. 
Thus  it  drew  towards  dinner  in  conclusion,  after  which  we  smoked, 
told  stories,  and  drank  tea. 

April  6. — Worked  at  the  review  for  three  or  four  hours  ;  yet  hang 
it,  I  can't  get  on.  I  wonder  if  I  am  turning  clumsy  in  other  matters ; 
certainly  I  cannot  write  against  time  as  I  used  to  do.  My  thoughts 
will  not  be  duly  regulated ;  my  pen  declares  for  itself,  will  neither 
write  nor  spell,  and  goes  under  independent  colours.  I  went  out  with 
the  child  Kitty  Skene  on  her  pony.  I  don't  much  love  children,  I 
suppose  from  want  of  habit,  but  this  is  a  fine  merry  little  girl. 

William  Forbes  sang  in  the  evening  with  a  feeling  and  taste  in- 
describably fine,  but  as  he  had  no  Scottish  or  English  songs,  my  ears 
were  not  much  gratified.  I  have  no  sense  beyond  Mungo :  "  What 
signify  me  hear  if  me  no  understand  !" 

William  Forbes  leaves  us.     As  to  the  old  story,  scribble  till  two, 

these  later  years  by  abstaining  altogether  from  2  Richard  Cleasby,  afterwards  the  well-known 

partisan  scribbling,  or  to  subject  the  Quarterly  scholar  who  spent  many  years  in  gathering  ma- 

to  risk  of  damage.    The  truth  is,  I  don't  ad-  terials  for  an  Icelandic  Dictionary.     Mr.  Cleas- 

mire,  after  all  that  has  come  and  gone,  being  by  died  in  1847,  but  the  work  he  had  planned 

applied  to  through  the  medium  of  friend  Cro-  was  not  published  until  1874,  when  it  appeared 

key.     I  hope  you  will  approve  of  my  resolu-  under  the  editorship  of  Mr.  Vigfusson,*  assist- 

tion. "  ed  by  Sir  George  Dasent. 

1  Peel,  in  writing  to  Scott,  says,  "The  men-  3  Bickerstaifs  Padlock,  Act  i.  Sc.  6. 

tion  of  your  name  [in  Parliament]  as  attached  „  . 

to  the  Edinburgh  petition  was  received  with  ^^^^^^S^^JS'^. 

loud  Cheers.  "  pleted  by  G.  Vigfusson.    4to,  Oxford,  1874. 


448  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

then  walk  for  exercise  till  four.  Deil  hae  it  else,  for  company  eats 
up  the  afternoon,  so  nothing  can  be  done  that  is  not  achieved  in  the 
forenoon. 

April  7. — We  had  a  gay  scene  this  morning — the  fox  hounds  and 
merry  hunters  in  my  little  base  court,  which  rung  with  trampling 
steeds,  and  rejoiced  in  scarlet  jackets  and  ringing  horns.  I  have  seen 
the  day  worlds  would  not  have  bribed  me  to  stay  behind  them ;  but 
that  is  over,  and  I  walked  a  sober  pace  up  to  the  Abbot's  Knowe 
from  which  I  saw  them  draw  my  woods,  but  without  finding  a  fox. 
I  watched  them  with  that  mixture  of  interest,  affection,  and  compas- 
sion which  old  men  feel  at  looking  on  the  amusements  of  the  young. 
I  was  so  far  interested  in  the  chase  itself  as  to  be  sorry  they  did  not 
find.  I  had  so  far  the  advantage  of  the  visit,  that  it  gave  me  an  ob- 
ject for  the  morning  exercise,  which  I  would  otherwise  only  have 
been  prompted  to  by  health  and  habit.  It  is  pleasant  to  have  one's 
walk, — as  heralds  say,  with  a  difference.  By  the  way,  the  foxhunters 
hunted  the  cover  far  too  fast.  When  they  found  a  path  they  ran 
through  it  pell-mell  without  beating  at  all.  They  had  hardly  left  the 
hare-hole  cover,  when  a  fox,  which  they  had  over-run,  stole  away. 
This  is  the  consequence  of  breeding  dogs  too  speedy. 

April  8. — We  have  the  news  of  the  Catholic  question  being  car- 
ried in  the  House  of  Lords,  by  a  majority  of  105  upon  the  second 
reading.  This  is  decisive,  and  the  balsam  of  Fierabras  must  be  swallow- 
ed.1 It  remains  to  see  how  it  will  work.  £>ince  it  was  indubitably 
necessary,  I  am  glad  the  decision  on  the  case  has  been  complete.  On 
these  last  three  days  I  have  finished  my  review  of  Tytler  for  Lock- 
hart  and  sent  it  off  by  this  post.  I  may  have  offended  Peter  by  cen- 
suring him  for  a  sort  of  petulance  towards  his  predecessor  Lord 
Hailes.  This  day  visited  by  Mr.  Carr,  who  is  a  sensible,  clever  young 
man,  and  by  his  two  sisters* —  beautiful  singer  the  youngest  —  and 
to  my  taste,  and  English  music. 

April  9. — Laboured  correcting  proofs  and  revising ;  the  day  in- 
finitely bad.  Worked  till  three  o'clock ;  then  tried  a  late  walk,  and 
a  wet  one. 

I  hear  bad  news  of  James  Ballantyne.  Hypochondriac  I  am 
afraid,  and  religiously  distressed  in  mind. 

I  got  a  book  from  the  Duke  de  Levis,  the  same  gentleman  with 
whom  I  had  an  awkward  meeting  at  Abbotsford,  owing  to  his  having 
forgot  his  credentials,  which  left  me  at  an  unpleasant  doubt  as  to  his 
character  and  identity.3  His  book  is  inscribed  to  me  with  hyper- 

i  Don  Quixote,  Pt.  I.  Bk.  n.  Cap.  2.  ed  going  into  the  Ark,  carrying  under  his  arm 

,T  _  ....  .        .  T  ,      „.  ,        a  small  trunk,  on  which  was  written  "1'npiers 

»  Friends  of  Joanna  BaUhe'sand  John  Rich-      ^  la  maison  ^  LMt.»  the  olhor  a  portra'it  0, 

ardson  s.  tno  founder  of  the  house  bowing  reverently  to 

•This  must  have  been  an  unusual  experi-  the  Virgin,  who  is  made  to  say,  "  Couvrez-vous, 

cnce  for  the  head  of  a  family  that  considered  man  cousin. " — SeeWalpole'sLf«er«.    The  book 

itself  to  be  the  oldest  in  Christendom.     Their  referred  to  by  Sir  Walter  is  The  Carbonaro:  a 

chateau  contained,  it  was  said,  two  pictures:  Piedmontese  Tale,  by  the  Duke  de  Lovis.     2 

one  of  the  Deluge,  in  which  Noah  is  represent-  vols.     London,  1829. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  449 

bolical  praises.  Now  I  don't  like  to  have,  like  the  Persian  poets  who 
have  the  luck  to  please  the  Sun  of  the  Universe,  my  mouth  crammed 
with  sugar-candy,  which  politeness  will  not  permit  me  to  spit  out, 
and  my  stomach  is  indisposed  to  swallow.  The  book  is  better  than 
would  be  expected  from  the  exaggerated  nonsense  of  the  dedication. 

April  10. — Left  Abbotsford  at  seven  to  attend  the  Circuit.  Nota 
bene — half-past  six  is  the  better  hour ;  waters  are  extremely  flooded. 
Lord  Meadowbank  at  the  Circuit.  Nothing  tried  but  a  few  trump- 
ery assaults.  Meadowbank  announces  he  will  breakfast  with  me  to- 
morrow, so  I  shall  return  to-night.  Promised  to  my  cousin  Charles 
Scott  to  interest  myself  about  his  getting  the  farm  of  Milsington 
upon  Borthwick  Water  and  mentioned  him  to  Colonel  Riddell  as  a 
proposed  offerer.  The  tender  was  well  received.  I  saw  James  the 
piper  and  my  cousin  Anne ;  sent  to  James  Veitch  the  spyglass  of 
Professor  Ferguson  to  be  repaired.  Dined  with  the  Judge  and  re- 
turned in  the  evening. 

April  11. — Meadowbank  breakfasted  with  us,  and  then  went  on 
to  Edinburgh,  pressed  by  bad  news,  of  his  family.  His  wife  (daughter 
of  my  early  patron,  President  Blair)  is  very  ill ;  indeed  I  fear  fatally 
so.  I  am  sorry  to  think  it  is  so.  When  the  King  was  here  she  was 
the  finest  woman  I  saw  at  Holyrood.  My  proofs  kept  me  working 
till  two ;  then  I  had  a  fatiguing  and  watery  walk.  After  dinner  we 
smoked,  and  I  talked  with  Mr.  Carr  over  criminal  jurisprudence,  the 
choicest  of  conversation  to  an  old  lawyer;  and  the  delightful  music 
of  Miss  Isabella  Carr  closed  the  day.  Still,  I  don't  get  to  my  task  ; 
but  I  will,  to-morrow  or  next  day. 

April  12. — Read  prayers,  put  my  books  in  order  and  made  some 
progress  in  putting  papers  in  order  which  have  been  multiplying  on 
my  table.  I  have  a  letter  from  that  impudent  lad  Reynolds  about 
my  contribution  to  the  Keepsake.  Sent  to  him  the  House  of  Aspen, 
as  I  had  previously  determined.  This  will  give  them  a  lumping  pen- 
nyworth in  point  of  extent,  but  that's  the  side  I  would  have  the  bar- 
gain "rest  upon.  It  shall  be  a  warning  after  this  to  keep  out  of  such 
a  scrape. 

April  13.  —  In  the  morning  before  breakfast  I  corrected  the 
proof  of  the  critique  on  the  life  of  Lord  Pitsligo  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine.1  After  breakfast  Skene  and  his  lady  and  family,  and  Mr. 
Carr  and  his  sisters,  took  their  departure.  Time  was  dawdled  away 
till  nearly  twelve  o'clock  and  then  I  could  not  work  much.  I  fin- 
ished, however,  a  painful  letter  to  J.  Ballantyne,  which  I  hope  will 
have  effect  upon  the  nervous  disorder  he  complains  of.  He  must 
"  awake,  arise,  or  be  for  ever  fallen."  I  walked  happily  and  pleas- 
antly from  two  o'clock  till  four.  And  now  I  must  look  to  Anne  of 
Geierstein.  Hang  it !  it  is  not  so  bad  after  all,  though  I  fear  it  will 
not  be  popular.  In  fact,  I  am  almost  expended ;  but. while  I  exhort 

i  No.  152— May,  1829. 

29 


450  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

others  to  exertion  I  will  not  fail  to  exert  myself.  I  have  a  letter  from 
R.  P.  Gfillies]  proposing  to  subscribe  to  assist  him  from  £25  to  £50. 
It  will  do  no  good,  but  yet  I  cannot  help  giving  him  something. 

"A  daimen-icker  in  a  thrave  's  a  sma'  request: 
I'll  get  a  blessing  wi'  the  lave,  and  never  miss  't."1 

I  will  try  a  review  for  the  Foreign  and  he  shall  have  the  proceeds. 

April  14. — I  sent  off  proofs  of  the  review  of  Tytler  for  John 
Lockhart.  Then  set  a  stout  heart  to  a  stay  brae,  and  took  up  Anne  of 
Geierstein.  I  had  five  sheets  standing  by  me,  which  I  read  with  care, 
and  satisfied  myself  that  worse  had  succeeded,  but  it  was  while  the 
fashion  of  the  thing  was  new.  I  retrenched  a  good  deal  about  the 
Troubadours,  which  was  really  hors  de  place.  As  to  King  Rene,  I 
retained  him  as  a  historical  character.  In  short,  I  will  let  the  sheets 
go  nearly  as  they  are,  for  though  J.  B.  be  an  excellent  judge  of  this 
species  of  composition,  he  is  not  infallible,  and  has  been  in  circum- 
stances which  may  cross  his  mind.  I  might  have  taken  this  deter- 
mination a  month  since,  and  I  wish  I  had.  But  I  thought  I  might 
strike  out  something  better  by  the  braes  and  burn-sides.  Alas !  I 
walk  along  them  with  painful  and  feeble  steps,  and  invoke  their  in- 
fluence in  vain.  But  my  health  is  excellent,  and  it  were  ungrateful 
to  complain  either  of  mental  or  bodily  decay.  We  called  at  Elliston 
to-day  and  made  up  for  some  ill-bred  delay.  In  the  evening  I  cor- 
rected two  sheets  of  the  Magnum,  as  we  call  it. 

April  15. — I  took  up  Anne,  and  wrote,  with  interruption  of  a 
nap  (in  which  my  readers  may  do  well  to  imitate  me),  till  two  o'clock. 
I  wrote  with  care,  having  digested  Comines.  Whether  I  succeed  or 
not,  it  would  be  dastardly  to  give  in.  A  bold  countenance  often  car- 
ries off  an  indifferent  cause,  but  no  one  will  defend  him  who  shows 
the  white  feather.  At  two  I  walked  till  near  four.  Dined  with  the 
girls,  smoked  two  cigars,  and  to  work  again  till  supper-time.  Slept 
like  a  top.  Amount  of  the  day's  work,  eight  pages — a  round  task. 

April  16. — I  meant  to  go  out  with  Bogie  to  plant  some  shrubs  in 
front  of  the  old  quarry,  but  it  rains  cats  and  dogs  as  they  say,  a  rare 
day  for  grinding  away  at  the  old  mill  of  imagination,  yet  somehow  I 
have  no  great  will  to  the  task.  After  all,  however,  the  morning 
proved  a  true  April  one,  sunshine  and  shower,  and  I  both  worked  to 
some  purpose,  and  moreover  walked  and  directed  about  planting  the 
quarry. 

The  post  brought  matter  for  a  May  or  April  morning — a  letter 
from  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  telling  me  that  Moore  and  he  were  en- 
gaged as  contributors  to  Longman's  Encyclopaedia,  and  asking  me  to 
do  a  volume  at  £1000,  the  subject  to  be  the  History  of  Scotland  in 
one  volume.  This  would  be  very  easy  work.  I  have  the  whole  stuff 


1  Burns's  Lines  to  a  Mouse:  "a  daimen-icker  in  a  thrave,"  that  is.  an  ear  of  corn  out  of  two 
dozen  sheaves. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  451 

in  my  head,  and  could  write  currente  calamo.  The  size  is  as  I  com- 
pute it  about  one-third  larger  than  The  Talcs  of  my  Grandfather. 
There  is  much  to  be  said  on  both  sides.  Let  me  balance  pros  and 
cons  after  the  fashion  of  honest  Robinson  Crusoe.  Pro. — It  is  the 
sum  I  have  been  wishing  for,  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  break  the  in- 
visible but  magic  circle  which  petty  debts  of  myself  and  others  have 
traced  round  me.  With  common  prudence  I  need  no  longer  go  from 
hand  to  mouth,  or  what  is  worse,  anticipate  my  means.  I  may  also 
pay  off  some  small  shop  debts,  etc.,  belonging  to  the  Trust,  clear  off 
all  Anne's  embarrassment,  and  even  make  some  foundation  of  a  purse 
for  her.  N.B. — I  think  this  whacking  reason  is  like  to  prove  the  gal- 
lon of  Cognac  brandy,  which  a  lady  recommended  as  the  foundation 
of  a  Liqueur.  "  Stop,  dear  madam,  if  you  please,"  said  my  grand- 
father, Dr.  Rutherford,  "  you  can  [add]  nothing  to  that;  it  isjlacon- 
nade  with  £1000,"  and  a  capital  hit,  egad.  Contra. — It  is  terribly 
like  a  hack  author  to  make  an  abridgement  of  what  I  have  written  so 
lately.  Pro. — But  a  difference  may  be  taken.  A  history  may  be 
written  of  the  same  country  on  a  different  plan,  general  where  the 
other  is  detailed,  and  philosophical  where  it  is  popular.  I  think  I 
can  do  this,  and  do  it  with  unwashed  hands  too.  For  being  hacked, 
what  is  it  but  another  word  for  being  an  author  ?  I  will  take  care  of 
my  name  doubtless,  but  the  five  letters  which  form  it  must  take  care 
of  me  in  turn.  I  never  knew  name  or  fame  burn  brighter  by  over 
chary  keeping  of  it.  Besides,  there  are  two  gallant  hacks  to  pull 
with  me.  Contra. — I  have  a  monstrous  deal  on  hand.  Let  me  see: 
Life  of  Argyll,1  and  Life  of  Peterborough,  for  Lockhart.2  Third 
series  Tales  of  my  Grandfather — review  for  Gillies — new  novel — end 
of  Anne  of  Geierstein.  Pro. — But  I  have  just  finished  two  long  re- 
views for  Lockhart.  The  third  series  is  soon  discussed.  The  re- 
view may  be  finished  in  three  or  four  days,  and  the  novel  is  within  a 
week  and  less  of  conclusion.  For  the  next,  we  must  first  see  how 
this  goes  off.  In  fine,  within  six  weeks,  I  am  sure  I  can  do  the  work 
and  seciire  the  independence  I  sigh  for.  Must  I  not  make  hay  while 
the  sun  shines?  Who  can  tell  what  leisure,  health,  and  life  may  be 
destined  to  me  ? 

Adjourned  the  debate  till  to-morrow  morning. 

April  17. — I  resumed  the  discussion  of  the  bargain  about  the 
history.  The  ayes  to  the  right,  the  noes  to  the  left.  The  ayes  have 
it — so  I  will  write  to  Sir  James  of  this  date.  But  I  will  take  a  walk 
first,  that  I  will.  A  little  shaken  with  the  conflict,  for  after  all  were 
I  as  I  have  been .  "My  poverty  but  not  my  will  consents."3 

I  have  been  out  in  a  most  delicious  real  spring  day.  I  returned 
with  my  nerves  strung  and  my  mind  determined.  I  will  make  this 
plunge,  and  with  little  doubt  of  coming  off  no  loser  in  character. 

1  John,  Duke  of  Argyll  and  Greenwich.  3  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  v.  Sc.  1. 

*  These  biographies,  intended  for  The  Family 
Library,  were  never  written. 


452  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

What  is  given  in  detail  may  be  suppressed,  general  views  may  be 
enlarged  upon,  and  a  bird's-eye  prospect  given,  not  the  less  interest- 
ing, that  we  have  seen  its  prominent  points  nearer  and  in  detail.  I 
have  been  of  late  in  a  great  degree  free  from  wafercd  letters,  sums 
to  make  up,  notes  of  hand  wanted,  and  all  the  worry  of  an  embar- 
rassed man's  life.  This  last  struggle  will  free  me  entirely,  and  so 
help  me  Heaven  it  shall  be  made !  I  have  written  to  Sir  James,  stat- 
ing that  I  apprehend  the  terms  to  be  £1000,  namely,  for  one  volume 
containing  about  one-third  more  than  one  of  the  volumes  of  Tales  of 
my  Grandfather,  and  agreeing  to  do  so.  Certes,  few  men  can  win  a 
thousand  pounds  so  readily. 

We  dine  with  the  Fergusons  to-day  at  four.  So  off  we  went  and 
safely  returned. 

April  18. — Corrected  proofs.  I  find  J.  B.  has  not  returned  to 
his  business,  though  I  wrote  him  how  necessary  it  was.  My  pity  be- 
gins to  give  way  to  anger.  Must  he  sit  there  and  squander  his 
thoughts  and  senses  upon  cloudy  metaphysics  and  abstruse  theology 
till  he  addles  his  brains  entirely,  and  ruins  his  business  ?  I  have 
written  to  him  again,  letter  third  and,  I  am  determined,  last. 

Wrote  also  to  the  fop  Reynolds,  with  preface  to  the  House  of 
Aspen,  then  to  honest  Joseph  Train  desiring  he  would  give  me  some 
notion  how  to  serve  him  with  Messrs.  Carr,  and  to  take  care  to  make 
his  ambition  moderate  and  feasible. 

My  neighbour,  Mr.  Kerr  of  Kippielaw,  struck  with  a  palsy  while 
he  was  looking  at  the  hounds ;  his  pony  remained  standing  by  his 
side.  A  sudden  call  if  a  final  one. 

That  strange  desire  to  leave  a  prescribed  task  and  set  about  some- 
thing else  seized  me  irresistibly.  I  yielded  to  it,  and  sat  down  to 
try  at  what  speed  and  in  what  manner  I  could  execute  this  job  of  Sir 
James  Mackintosh's,  and  I  wrote  three  leaves  before  rising,  well 
enough,  I  think.  The  girls  made  a  round  with  me.  We  drove  to 
Chiefswood,  and  from  that  to  Janeswood,  up  the  Rhymer's  Glen,  and 
so  home.  This  occupied  from  one  to  four.  In  the  evening  I  heard 
Anne  read  Mr.  Peel's  excellent  Bill  on  the  Police  of  the  Metropolis, 
which  goes  to  disband  the  whole  generation  of  Dogberry  and  Verges. 
Wrote  after  tea. 

April  19. — I  made  this  a  busy  day.  I  wrote  on  at  the  history 
until  two  o'clock,  then  took  a  gallant  walk,  then  began  reading  for 
Gillies's  article.  James  Ferguson  dined  with  us.  We  smoked  and  I 
became  woundy  sleepy.  Now  I  have  taken  collar  to  this  arrange- 
ment, I  find  an  open  sea  before  me  which  I  could  not  have  antici- 
pated, for  though  I  should  get  through  well  enough  with  my  expec- 
tations during  the  year,  yet  it  is  a  great  thing  to  have  a  certainty  to 
be  clear  as  a  new  pin  of  every  penny  of  debt.  There  is  no  being 
obliged  or  asking  favours  or  getting  loans  from  some  grudging  friend 
who  can  never  look  at  you  after  but  with  fear  of  losing  his  cash,  or 
you  at  him  without  the  humiliating  sense  of  having  extorted  an  obli- 


1829.]  JOURNAL  453 

gation.  Besides  my  large  debts,  I  have  paid  since  I  was  in  trouble 
at  least  £2000  of  personal  encumbrances,  so  no  wonder  my  nose  is 
still  under  water.  I  really  believe  the  sense  of  this  apparently  un- 
ending struggle,  schemes  for  retrenchment  in  which  I  was  unsecond- 
ed,  made  me  low-spirited,  for  the  sun  seems  to  shine  brighter  upon 
me  as  a  free  man.  Nevertheless,  devil  take  the  necessity  which  makes 
me  drudge  like  a  very  hack  of  Grub  Street. 

"  May  the  foul  fa'  the  gear  and  the  bletherie  o  't." ' 

I  walked  out  with  Tom's  assistance,  came  home,  went  through 
the  weary  work  of  cramming,  and  so  forth ;  wrought  after  tea,  and 
then  to  bed. 

April  20. — As  yesterday  till  two — sixteen  pages  of  the  History 
written,  and  not  less  than  one-fifth  of  the  whole  book.  What  if  they 
should  be  off  ?  I  were  finely  holp'd  for  throwing  my  time  away.  A 
toy  !  They  dare  not. 

Lord  Buchan  is  dead,  a  person  whose  immense  vanity,  bordering 
upon  insanity,  obscured,  or  rather  eclipsed,  very  considerable  talents. 
His  imagination  was  so  fertile  that  he  seemed  really  to  believe  the 
extraordinary  fictions  which  he  delighted  in  telling.  His  economy, 
most  laudable  in  the  early  part  of  his  life,  when  it  enabled  him,  from 
a  small  income,  to  pay  his  father's  debts,  became  a  miserable  habit, 
and  led  him  to  do  mean  things.  He  had  a  desire  to  be  a  great  man, 
and  a  Mcecenas  bon  marche.  The  two  celebrated  lawyers,  his  brothers, 
were  not  more  gifted  by  nature  than  I  think  he  was,  but  the  re- 
straints of  a  profession  kept  the  eccentricity  of  the  family  in  order. 
Henry  Erskine  was  the  best-natured  man  I  ever  knew,  thoroughly  a 
gentleman,  and  with  but  one  fault :  he  could  not  say  no,  and  thus 
sometimes  misled  those  who  trusted  him.  Tom  Erskine  was  posi- 
tively mad.  I  have  heard  him  tell  a  cock-and-a-bull  story  of  having 
seen  the  ghost  of  his  father's  servant,  John  Buruet,  with  as  much 
sincerity  as  if  he  believed  every  word  he  was  saying.  Both  Henry 
and  Thomas  were  saving  men,  yet  both  died  very  poor.  The  one  at 
one  time  possessed  £200,000 ;  the  other  had  a  considerable  fortune. 
The  Earl  alone  has  died  wealthy.  It  is  saving,  not  getting,  that  is 
the  mother  of  riches.  They  all  had  wit.  The  Earl's  was  crack- 
brained  and  sometimes  caustic ;  Henry's  was  of  the  very  kindest,  best- 
humoured,  and  gayest  that  ever  cheered  society ;  that  of  Lord  Ers- 
kine was  moody  and  maddish.  But  I  never  saw  him  in  his  best  days. 

Went  to  Haining.  Time  has  at  last  touched  the  beautiful  Mrs. 
Pringle.  I  wonder  he  was  not  ashamed  of  himself  for  spoiling  so 
fine  a  form.  But  what  cares  he?  Corrected  proofs  after  dinner. 
James  B.  is  at  last  at  work  again. 

1  "  When  I  think  on  the  world's  pelf 

May  the  abaine  fa'  and  the  tlethrie  o  't." 

Burden  of  old  Scottish  Song. 


454  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

April  21. — Spent  the  whole  morning  at  writing,  still  the  History, 
such  is  my  wilful  whim.  Twenty  pages  now  finished — I  suppose  the 
clear  fourth  part  of  a  volume.  I  went  out,  but  the  day  being  sulky 
I  sat  in  the  Conservatory,  after  trying  a  walk !  I  have  been  glancing 
over  the  works  for  Gillies's  review,  and  I  think  on  them  between- 
hands  while  I  compose  the  History, — an  odd  habit  of  doing  two 
•things  at  once,  but  it  has  always  answered  with  me  well  enough. 

April  22. — Another  hard  day's  work  at  the  History,  now  increased 
•to  the  Bruce  and  Baliol  period,  and  threatening  to  be  too  lengthy  for 
the  Cyclopaedia.  But  I  will  make  short  work  with  wars  and  battles. 
I  wrote  till  two  o'clock,  and  strolled  with  old  Tom  and  my  dogs'  till 
half-past  four,  hours  of  pleasure  and  healthful  exercise,  and  to-day 
taken  with  ease.  A  letter  from  J.  B.,  stating  an  alarm  that  he  may 
lose  the  printing  of  a  part  of  the  Magnum.  But  I  shall  write  him 
he  must  be  his  own  friend,  set  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  and  remain  at 
the  head  of  his  business  ;  and  of  that  I  must  make  him  aware.  And 
so  I  set  to  my  proofs.  "  Better  to  work,"  says  the  inscription  on 
Hogarth's  Bridewell,  "  than  stand  thus." 

April  23. — A  cold  blustering  day — bad  welcome  for  the  poor 
lambs.  I  made  my  walk  short  and  my  task  long,  my  work  turning 
entirely  on  the  History — all  on  speculation.  But  the  post  brought 
me  a  letter  from  Dr.  Lardner,  the  manager  of  the  Cyclopaedia,  agree- 
ing to  my  terms ;  so  all  is  right  there,  and  no  labour  thrown  away. 
The  volume  is  to  run  to  400  pages ;  so  much  the  better  ;  I  love  elbow- 
room,  and  will  have  space  to  do  something  to  purpose.  I  replied 
agreeing  to  his  terms,  and  will  send  him  copy  as  soon  as  I  have 
corrected  it.  The  Colonel  and  Miss  Ferguson  dined  with  us.  I 
think  I  drank  rather  a  cheerful  glass  with  my  good  friend.  Smoked 
an  extra  cigar,  so  no  more  at  present. 

April  25. — After  writing  to  Mr.  Cochrane,"  to  Cadell  and  J.  B., 
also  to  Mr.  Pitcairn,3  it  was  time  to  set  out  for  Lord  Buchan's  funeral. 
The  funeral  letters  were  signed  by  Mr.  H.  David  Erskine,  his  lord- 
ship's natural  son.  His  nephew,  the  young  Earl,  was  present,  but 
neither  of  them  took  the  head  of  the  coffin.  His  lordship's  funeral 
took  place  in  a  chapel  amongst  the  ruins.  His  body  was  in  the  grave 
with  its  feet  pointing  westward.  My  cousin,  Maxpopple,4  was  for 
taking  notice  of  it,  but  I  assured  him  that  a  man  who  had  been  wrong 

i  That  these  afternoon  rambles  with  the  dogs  snapped  at  even  by  the  paynim  Nimrod.   What 

were  not  always  so  tranquil  may  be  gathered  could  I  say  to  him  but  what  Brantome  said  to 

from  an  incident  described  by  Mr.  Adolphus,  some  ferrailleur  who  had  been  too  successful 

in  which  an  unsuspecting  cat  at  a  cottage  door  in  a  duel,  'Ah!  mon  grand  ami,  vous  avez  tue 

was  demolished  by  Nimrod  in  one  of  his  gam-  mon  autre  grand  ami.'  " 
bols.  —  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  362.     This  deer-hound         a  Manager  of  the  Foreign  Review. 
was  an  old  offender.   Sir  Walter  tells  his  friend          »  Robert  Pitcairn,  author  of  Criminal  Trials 

Richardson,  d  propos  of  a  story  he  had  just  tn  Scotland,  3  vols.  4to. 

heard  of  Joanna  Baillie's  cat  having  worried  a  «  William  Scott,  Esq.,  afterwards  Laird  of 
dog:  "It  is  just  like  her  mistress,  who  beats  Raeburn,  was  commonly  thus  designated  from 
the  male  race  of  authors  out  of  the  pit  in  de-  a  minor  possession,  during  his  father's  life- 
scribing  the  higher  passions  that  are  more  time.  Whatever,  in  things  of  this  sort,  used 
proper  to  their  sex  than  hers.  Alack-a-day!  to  be  practised  among  the  French  noblesse, 
my  poor  cat  Hinse,  my  acquaintance,  and  in  might  be  traced,  till  very  lately,  in  the  cus- 
soine  sort  my  friend  of  fifteen  years,  was  loins  of  the  Scottish  provincial  gentry. — J.G.I* 


1829.]  JOURNAL  455 

in  the  head  all  his  life  would  scarce  become  right-headed  after 
death.  I  felt  something  at  parting  with  this  old  man,  though  but  a 
trumpery  body.  He  gave  me  the  first  approbation  I  ever  obtained 
from  a  stranger.  Ilis  caprice  had  led  him  to  examine  Dr.  Adam's 
class  when  I,  a  boy  twelve  years  old,  and  then  in  disgrace  for  some 
aggravated  case  of  negligence,  was  called  up  from  a  low  bench,  and 
recited  my  lesson  with  some  spirit  and  appearance  of  feeling  the 
poetry — it  was  the  apparition  of  Hector's  ghost  in  the  ^Eneid — of 
which  called  forth  the  noble  Earl's  applause.  I  was  very  proud  of 
this  at  the  time. 

I  was  sad  on  another  account — it  was  the  first  time  I  had  been 
among  these  ruins  since  1  left  a  very  valued  pledge  there.  My  next 
visit  may  be  involuntary.  Even  so,  God's  will  be  done !  at  least  I 
have  not  the  mortification  of  thinking  what  a  deal  of  patronage  and 
fuss  Lord  Buchan  would  bestow  on  my  funeral.1  Maxpopple  dined 
and  slept  here  with  four  of  his  family,  much -amused  with  what  they 
heard  and  saw.  By  good  fortune  a  ventriloquist  and  partial  juggler 
came  in,  and  we  had  him  in  the  library  after  dinner.  He  was  a  half- 
starved  wretched-looking  creature,  who  seemed  to  have  ate  more  fire 
than  bread.  So  I  caused  him  to  be  well  stuffed,  and  gave  him  a 
guinea,  rather  to  his  poverty  than  to  his  skill — and  now  to  finish 
Anne  of  Geierstein. 

April  26. — But  not  a  finger  did  I  lay  on  the  jacket  of  Anne. 
Looking  for  something,  I  fell  in  with  the  little  drama,  long  missing, 
called  the  Doom  of  Devorgoil.  I  believe  it  was  out  of  mere  contra- 
diction that  I  sat  down  to  read  and  correct  it,  merely  because  I  would 
not  be  bound  to  do  aught  that  seemed  compulsory.  So  I  scribbled 
at  a  piece  of  nonsense  till  two  o'clock,  and  then  walked  to  the  lake. 
At  night  I  flung  helve  after  hatchet,  and  spent  the  evening  in  reading 
the  Doom  of  Devorgoil  to  the  girls,  who  seemed  considerably  inter- 
ested. Anne  objects  to  the  mingling  the  goblinry,  which  is  comic, 
with  the  serious,  which  is  tragic.  After  all,  I  could  greatly  improve 
it,  and  it  would  not  be  a  bad  composition  of  that  odd  kind  to  some 
picnic  receptacle  of  all  things. 

April  27. — This  day  must  not  be  wasted.  I  breakfast  with  the 
Fergusons,  and  dine  with  the  Brewsters.  But,  by  Heaven,  I  will  fin- 
ish Anne  of  Geierstein  this  day  betwixt  the  two  engagements.  I  don't 
know  why  nor  wherefore,  but  I  hate  Anne,  I  mean  Anne  of  Geierstein ; 
the  other  two  Annes  are  good  girls.  Accordingly  I  well  nigh  accom- 
plished my  work,  but  about  three  o'clock  my  story  fell  into  a  slough, 
and  in  getting  it  out  I  lost  my  way,  and  was  forced  to  postpone 
the  conclusion  till  to-morrow.  Wrote  a  good  day's  work  notwith- 
standing. 

April  28. — I  have  slept  upon  my  puzzle,  and  will  now  finish  it, 
Jove  bless  my  pia  mater,  as  I  see  not  further  impediment  before  me. 

1  Life,  vol.  vi.  p.  90. 


456  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

The  story  will  end,  and  shall  end,  because  it  must  end,  and  so  here 
goes.  After  this  doughty  resolution,  I  went  doggedly  to  work,  and 
finished  five  leaves  by  the  time  when  they  should  meet  the  coach. 
But  the  misfortune  of  writing  fast  is  that  one  cannot  at  the  same 
time  write  concisely.  I  wrote  two  pages  more  in  the  evening.  Stayed 
at  home  all  day.  Indeed,  the  weather — sleety,  rainy,  stormy — forms 
no  tempting  prospect.  Bogie,  too,  who  sees  his  flourish  going  to 
wreck,  is  looking  as  spiteful  as  an  angry  fiend  towards  the  unpropi- 
tious  heavens.  So  I  made  a  day  of  work  of  it, 

"And  yet  the  end  was  not." 

April  29. — This  morning  I  finished  and  sent  off  three  pages  more, 
and  still  there  is  something  to  write;  but  I  will  take  the  broad  axe 
to  it,  and  have  it  ended  before  noon. 

This  has  proved  impossible,  and  the  task  lasted  me  till  nine,  when 
it  was  finished,  tant  bien  que  mal.  Now,  will  people  say  this  ex- 
presses very  little  respect  for  the  public  ?  In  fact,  I  have  very  little 
respect  for  that  dear  publicum  whom  I  am  doomed  to  amuse,  like 
Goody  Trash  in  Bartholomew  Fair,  with  rattles  and  gingerbread  ;  and 
I  should  deal  very  uncandidly  with  those  who  may  read  my  confes- 
sions were  1  to  say  I  knew  a  public  worth  caring  for  or  capable  of 
distinguishing  the  nicer  beauties  of  composition.  They  weigh  good 
and  evil  qualities  by  the  pound.  Get  a  good  name  and  you  may 
write  trash.  Get  a  bad  one  and  you  may  write  like  Homer,  without 
pleasing  a  single  reader.  I  am,  perhaps,  Venfant  gate  de  succes,  but  I 
am  brought  to  the  stake,1  and  must  perforce  stand  the  course. 

Having  finished  Anne*  I  began  and  revised  fifteen  leaves  of  the 
History,  and  sent  them  to  Dr.  Lardner.  I  think  they  read  more  trashy 
than  I  expected.  But  when  could  I  ever  please  myself,  even  when  I 
have  most  pleased  others  ?  Then  I  walked  about  two  hours  by  the 
thicket  and  river-side,  watching  the  appearance  of  spring,  which,  as 
Coleridge  says — 

"Comes  slowly  up  this  way." 

After  dinner  and  tea  I  resumed  the  task  of  correction,  which  is  an 
odious  one,  but  must  be  attempted,  ay,  and  accomplished  too. 

April  30. — Dr.  Johnson  enjoins  Bozzy  to  leave  out  of  his  diary 
all  notices  of  the  weather  as  insignificant.  It  may  be  so  to  an  inhab- 
itant of  Bolt  Court,  in  Fleet  Street,  who  need  care  little  whether  it 
rains  or  snows,  except  the  shilling  which  it  may  cost  him  for  a  Jarvie  ; 

1  "They  have  ty'd  me  to  a  stake;  I  cannot  fly,  What!  will  the  aspiring  blood  of  Lancaster 

But  bear-like  I  must  fight  the  course."  Sink  in  the  ground!  SHAKESPKABI. 

-ifaebtth,  Act  v.  Sc.  7.  Jn  three  vo,umeg    Edinburgh:  Printed  for  Ca- 

2  The  work  was  published  in  May  under  the  dell  &  Co.,  Edinburgh;  and  Simpkin  &  Mar- 
following  title: — '••Anne  of  Geierstein,  or  The  shall,  London,  1829.     (At  the  end)  Edinburgh: 
Maiden  of  the  Mist.     By  the  Author  of  Waver-  Printed   by   Ballantyne   &   Company,   Paul's 
ley,  eta  Work,  Canongate. " 


1829.]  JOURNAL  45*7 

but  when  I  wake  and  find  a  snow  shower  sweeping  along,  and  destroy- 
ing hundreds  perhaps  of  young  lambs,  and  famishing  their  mothers,  I 
must  consider  it  as  worth  noting.  For  my  own  poor  share,  I  am  as 
indifferent  as  any  Grub  Streeter  of  them  all — 

" And  since  'tis  a  bad  day, 

Rise  up,  rise  up,  my  merry  men, 
And  use  it  as  you  may." 

I  have  accordingly  been  busy.  The  weather  did  not  permit  me  to  go 
beyond  the  courtyard,  for  it  continued  cold  and  rainy.  I  have  em- 
ployed the  day  in  correcting  the  history  for  Cyclopaedia  as  far  as 
page  35,  exclusive,  and  have  sent  it  off,  or  shall  to-morrow.  I  wish 
I  knew  how  it  would  run  out.  Dr.  Lardner's  measure  is  a  large  one, 
but  so  much  the  better.  I  like  to  have  ample  verge  and  space  enough, 
and  a  mere  abridgment  would  be  discreditable.  Well,  nobody  can 
say  I  eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  Why  should  I  ?  Those  who  do  not 
work  from  necessity  take  violent  labour  from  choice,  and  were  neces- 
sity out  of  the  question  I  would  take  the  same  sort  of  literary  labour 
from  choice — something  more  leisurely  though. 


MAY 

May  1. — Weather  more  tolerable.  I  commenced  my  review  on 
the  Duke  of  Guise's  Expedition,1  for  my  poor  correspondent  Gillies, 
with  six  leaves.  What  a  curious  tale  that  is  of  Masaniello !  I  went 
to  Huntly  Burn  in  the  sociable,  and  returned  on  foot,  to  my  great  re- 
freshment. Evening  as  usual.  Ate,  drank,  smoked,  and  wrote. 

May  2. — A  pitiful  day  of  rain  and  wind.  Laboured  the  whole 
morning  at  Gillies's  review.  It  is  a  fine  subject — the  Duke  of  Guise 
at  Naples — and  I  think  not  very  much  known,  though  the  story  of 
Masaniello  is. 

I  have  a  letter  from  Dr.  Lardner  proposing  to  me  to  publish  the 
history  in  June.  But  I  dare  not  undertake  it  in  so  short  a  space, 
proof-sheets  and  all  considered ;  it  must  be  October — no  help  for  it.* 
Worked  after  dinner  as  usual. 

May  3. — The  very  same  diary  might  serve  this  day  as  the  last.  1 
sent  off  to  Gillies  half  his  review,  and  I  wish  the  other  half  at  Old 
Nick. 

May  4. — A  poor  young  woman  came  here  this  morning,  well-dress- 
ed and  well-behaved,  with  a  strong  northern  accent.  She  talked  in- 
coherently a  long  story  of  a  brother  and  a  lover  both  dead.  I  would 
have  kept  her  here  till  I  wrote  to  her  friends,  particularly  to  Mr.  Suth- 
erland (an  Aberdeen  bookseller),  to  inform  them  where  she  is,  but  my 
daughter  and  her  maidens  were  frightened,  as  indeed  there  might  be 
room  for  it,  and  so  I  sent  her  in  one  of  Davidson's  chaises  to  the  cas- 
tle at  Jodburgh,  and  wrote  to  Mr.  Shortreed  to  see  she  is  humanely 
treated.  I  have  written  also  to  her  brother. 

"Long  shall  I  see  these  things  forlorn, 
And  long  again  their  sorrows  feel." 

The  rest  was  write,  walk,  eat,  smoke  ;  smoke,  and  write  again. 

May  5. — A  moist  rainy  day,  mild,  however,  and  promising  good 
weather.  I  sat  at  my  desk  the  whole  day,  and  worked  at  Gillies's  re- 
view. So  was  the  day  exhausted. 

May  6. — I  sent  off  the  review.  Received  the  sheets  of  the  Secret 
Tribunal  from  Master  Reynolds.  Keith  Scott,  a  grandson  of  James 
Scott,  my  father's  cousin-german,  came  here,  a  fine  lively  boy  with 

1  See  Foreign  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  Iv.  p.  the  publishers  handsomely  agreed  to  give  the 
355.  author  £1500  for  two  volumes,  forming  the  first 

and  fourth  issues  of  their  own  Cabinet  (''</(•/«;«»•- 

1  Tins  short  History  of  Scotland,  it  was  found,  dta,  the  publication  of  which  was  commenced 
could  nut  be  comprised  in  a  single  volume,  and  before  the  end  of  the  year. 


MAY,  1829.]  JOURNAL  459 

good  spirits  and  amiable  manners.  Just  when  I  had  sent  off  the  rest 
of  Gillies's  manuscript,  W.  Laidlaw  came,  so  I  had  him  for  my  com- 
panion in  a  walk  which  the  late  weather  has  prevented  for  one  or  two 
days.  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Ferguson,  and  Margaret  Ferguson,  came  to 
dinner,  and  so  passed  the  evening. 

May  7. — Captain  Percy,  brother  of  Lord  Lovaine,  and  son  of  Lord 
Beverley,  came  out  to  dinner.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Brewster  met  him.  He 
is  like  his  brother,  Lord  Lovaine,  an  amiable,  easy,  and  accomplished 
man,  who  has  seen  a  great  deal  of  service,  and  roamed  about  with 
tribes  of  Western  Indians. 

May  8. — Went  up  Yarrow  with  Captain  Percy,  which  made  a  com- 
plete day's  idleness,  for  which  I  have  little  apology  to  offer.  I  heard 
at  the  same  time  from  the  President1  that  Sir  Robert  Dundas  is  very 
unwell,  so  I  must  be  in  Edinburgh  on  Monday  llth.  Very  disagree- 
able, now  the  weather  is  becoming  pleasant. 

May  9. — Captain  Percy  left  us  at  one  o'clock.  He  has  a  sense  of 
humour,  and  aptness  of  comprehension  which  renders  him  an  agree- 
able companion.  I  am  sorry  his  visit  has  made  me  a  little  idle,  but 
there  is  no  help  for  it. 

I  have  done  everything  to-day  previous  to  my  going  away,  but — 
que  faut-il  falre\  one  must  see  society  now  and  then,  and  this  is  real- 
ly an  agreeable  man.  And  so,  transeat  ille.  I  walked,  and  was  so 
fatigued  as  to  sleep,  and  now  I  will  attack  John  Lockhart's  proof- 
sheets,  of  which  he  has  sent  me  a  revise.  In  the  evening  I  corrected 
proofs  for  the  review. 

May  10. — This  must  be  a  day  of  preparation,  which  I  hate ;  yet 
it  is  but  laying  aside  a  few  books,  and  arranging  a  few  papers,  and 
yet  my  nerves  are  fluttered,  and  I  make  blunders,  and  mislay  my  pen 
and  my  keys,  and  make  more  confusion  than  I  can  repair.  After  all, 
I  will  try  for  once  to  do  it  steadily. 

Well !  I  have  toiled  through  it ;  it  is  like  a  ground  swell  in  the 
sea  that  brings  up  all  that  is  disgusting  from  the  bottom — admonitory 
letters — unpaid  bills — few  of  these,  thank  my  stars  ! — all  that  one 
would  wish  to  forget  perks  itself  up  in  your  face  at  a  thorough  red- 
ding up — devil  take  it,  I  will  get  out  and  cool  the  fever  that  this  tur- 
moil has  made  in  my  veins !  The  delightful  spring  weather  conjured 
down  the  evil  spirit.  I  sat  a  long  time  with  my  nerves  shaking  like 
a  frightened  child,  and  then  laughed  at  it  all  by  the  side  of  the  river, 
coming  back  by  the  thicket. 

May  11,  [Edinburgh], — We  passed  the  morning  in  the  little  ar- 
rangements previous  to  our  departure,  and  then  returned  at  night 
to  Edinburgh,  bringing  Keith  Scott  along.  This  boy's  grandfather, 
James  Scott  by  name,  very  clever  and  particularly  well  acquainted 
with  Indian  customs  and  manners.  He  was  one  of  the  first  settlers 
in  Prince  of  Wales  Island.  He  was  an  active-minded  man,  and  there- 

»  Right  Hon.  Charles  Hope. 


460  JOURNAL  [MAY 

fore  wrote  a  great  deal.  I  have  seen  a  trunkful  of  his  MSS.  Unhap- 
pily, instead  of  writing  upon  some  subject  on  which  he  might  have 
conveyed  information  he  took  to  writing  on  metaphysics,  and  lost 
both  his  candles  and  his  labour.  I  was  consulted  about  publishing 
some  part  of  his  works ;  but  could  not  recommend  it.  They  were 
shallow  essays,  with  a  good  deal  of  infidelity  exhibited.  Yet  James 
Scott  was  a  very  clever  man.  He  only  fell  into  the  common  mistake 
of  supposing  that  arguments  new  to  him  were  new  to  all  others.  His 
son,  when  I  knew  him  long  since  in  this  country,  was  an  ordinary  man 
enough.  This  boy  seems  smart  and  clever.  We  reached  the  house 
in  the  evening ;  it  was  comfortable  enough  considering  it  had  been 
shut  up  for  two  months.  I  found  a  letter  from  Cadell  asserting  his 
continued  hope  in  the  success  of  the  Magnum.  I  begin  to  be  jealous 
on  the  subject,  but  I  will  know  to-morrow. 

May  12. — Went  to  Parliament  House.  Sir  Robert  Dundas  very 
unwell.  Poor  Hamilton  on  his  back  with  the  gout.  So  was  obliged 
to  have  the  assistance  of  Rolland'  from  the  Second  Division.  Saw 
Cadell  on  the  way  home.  I  was  right :  he  had  been  disappointed  in 
his  expectations  from  Glasgow  and  other  mercantile  places  where 
trade  is  low  at  present.  But 

"Tidings  did  he  bring  of  Africa  and  golden  joys." 

The  Magnum  has  taken  extremely  in  Ireland,  which  was  little  count- 
ed on,  and  elsewhere.  Hence  he  proposes  a  new  edition  of  Tales  of 
my  Grandfather,  First  Series ;  also  an  enlargement  of  the  Third  Se- 
ries. All  this  drives  poverty  and  pinch,  which  is  so  like  poverty, 
from  the  door. 

I  visited  Lady  J.  S.,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  find  her  well.  I 
wrote  a  little,  and  got  over  a  place  that  bothered  me.  Cadell  has 
apprehensions  of  A[nne]  of  G[eierstein],  so  have  I.  Well,  the  worst 
of  it  is,  we  must  do  something  better." 

May  13. — Attended  the  Court,  which  took  up  a  good  deal  of 
time.  On  my  return  saw  Sir  Robert  Dundas,  who  is  better — and  ex- 
pects to  be  out  on  Tuesday.  I  went  to  the  Highland  Society  to  pre- 

1  Adam  Rolland,  Principal  Clerk  of  Session,  tude  of  surpassing  beauties  which  it  contained 
a  nephew  of  Adam  Rolland  of  Cask,  who  was  frightened  me,  but  I  find  that  after  having  iv;ul 
in  some  respects  the  prototype  of  Pleydell,  it  the  public  mind  required  to  be  let  gently 
and  whose  face  and  figure  have  been  made  fa-  down  from  the  tone  of  excitement  to  which  it 
miliar  to  the  present  generation  by  Raeburn's  had  been  raised,  and  was  contented  to  pause  at 
masterpiece  of  portraiture,  now  in  the  posses-  my  book  (Richelieu),  as  a  man  who  has  been 
sion  of  Miss  Abercrombie,  Edinburgh.  enjoying  a  fine  prospect  from  a  high  hill  stops 

2  Sir  Walter  had  written  to  Mr.  Lockhart  on  before  he  reaches  the  valley  to  take  another 
8th  May: — "Anne  of  Oeierstein  is  concluded;  look,  though  half  the  beauty  be  already  lost. 
but  as  I  do  not  like  her  myself,  I  do  not  expect  .  .  .  You  cannot  think  how  I  long  to  acquit 
she  will  be  popular."  myself  of  the  obligations  which  I  lie  under 

As  a  contrast  to  the  criticisms  of  the  printer  towards  you,  but  I  am  afraid  that  fortune,  who 

and  publisher,  and  a  comment  upon  the  au-  has  given  you  both  the  will  aud  the  power  to 

thor's  own  apprehensions,  the  subjoined  ex-  confer  such  great  favours  upon  me,  has  not  in 

tract   from  a  letter  written   by    Mr.  G.  P.  R.  any  degree  enabled  me  to  aid  or  usHi.-'t  you  in 

James  may  be  given :  —  "  When  I  first   read  return." 
Anne  of  Qeierttein  I  will  own  that  the  multi- 


1829.]  JOURNAL  461 

sent  Miss  Grabame  Stirling's  book,  being  a  translation  of  Gelieu's 
work  on  bees,1  which  was  well  received.  Went  with  the  girls  to 
dine  at  Dalhousie  Castle,  where  we  were  very  kindly  received.  I  saw 
the  Edgewell  Tree,2  too  fatal,  says  Allan  Ramsay,  to  the  family  from 
which  he  was  himself  descended.  I  also  saw  the  fatal  Coalston 
Pear,3  said  to  have  been  preserved  many  hundred  years.  It  is  cer- 
tainly a  pear  either  petrified  or  turned  into  wood,  with  a  bit  out  of 
one  side  of  it. 

It  is  a  pity  to  see  my  old  school-companion,  this  fine  true-hearted 
nobleman  of  such  an  ancient  and  noble  descent,  after  having  followed 
the  British  flag  through  all  quarters  of  the  world,  again  obliged  to 
resume  his  wanderings  at  a  time  of  life  equal,  I  suppose,  to  my  own. 
He  has  not,  however,  a  grey  hair  in  his  head. 

May  14. — Left  Dalhousie  at  eight  to  return  here  to  breakfast, 
where  we  received  cold  tidings.  Walter  has  had  an  inflammatory 
attack,  and  I  fear  it  will  be  necessary  to  him  to  return  without  delay 
to  the  Continent.  I  have  letters  from  Sophia  and  Sir  Andrew  Halli- 
day.  The  last  has  been  of  the  utmost  service,  by  bleeding  and  ad- 
vising active  measures.  How  little  one  knows  to  whom  they  are  to 
be  obliged !  I  wrote  to  him  and  to  Jane,  recommending  the  Ionian 
Islands,  where  Sir  Frederick  Adam  would,  I  am  sure,  give  Walter  a 
post  on  his  staff.  The  kind  old  Chief  Commissioner  at  once  inter- 
ested himself  in  the  matter.  It  makes  me  inexpressibly  anxious,  yet 
I  have  kept  up  my  determination  not  to  let  the  chances  of  fate  over- 
come me  like  a  summer's-cloud.4  I  wrote  four  or  five  pages  of  the 
History  to-day,  notwithstanding  the  agitation  of  my  feelings. 

May  1 5. — Attended  the  Court,  where  Mr.  Rolland  and  I  had  the 
duty  of  the  First  Division ;  Sir  Robert  and  Hamilton  being  both  laid 
up.  Dined  at  Granton  and  met  Lord  and  Lady  Dalhousie,  Sir  John 
Hope,  etc.  I  have  spelled  out  some  work  this  day,  though  I  have 
been  rather  knocked  about. 

May  16. — After  the  Court  this  day  I  went  to  vote  at  the  Archers' 
Hall,  where  some  of  the  members  had  become  restive.  They  were 
outvoted  two  to  one.  There  had  been  no  division  in  the  Royal 
Body  Guard  since  its  commencement,  but  these  times  make  divisions 
everywhere.  A  letter  from  Lockhart  brings  better  news  of  Walter, 
but  my  heart  is  heavy  on  the  subject.  I  went  on  with  my  History, 
however,  for  the  point  in  this  world  is  to  do  what  we  ought,  and  bear 
what  we  must. 

1  Tke  Bee  Preserver,  or  Practical  Directions  sac."  —  Allan  Ramsay's  Work$,  voL  i.  p.  329: 

for  the  M anagement  and  Preservation of  Hives.  "Stocks  in  1720."    2  vote.  8vo,  Lond.  1800. 

Translated  from  the  French  of  J.  De  Gclieu.  The  tree  is  still  flourishing  [1889],  and  the 

1829.  belief  in  its  sympathy  with  the  family  is  not 

3  "  An  oak  tree  which  grows  by  the  side  of  yet  extinct,  as  an  old  forester,  on  seeing  a 

a  fine  spring  near  the  Castle  of  Dalhousie;  very  large  branch  fall  from  it  on  a  quiet  still  day  in 

much  observed  by  the  country  people,  who  July,  1874,  exclaimed,  "The  laird's  deed  noo!" 

give  out  that  before  any  of  the  family  died  a  and  accordingly  news  came  soon  after  that  Fox 

branch  fell  from  the  Edgewell  Tree.    The  old  Maule,  llth  Earl  of  Dalhousie,  had  died. 

tree  some  few  years  ago  fell  altogether,  but  3  The  Coalstoun  Pear  was  removed  from  Dal- 

another  sprang  from  the  same  root,  which  is  housie  to  Coalstoun  House  in  1861. 

now  [1720]  tall  and  flourishing ;  ana  lang  be  it  *  Macbeth,  Act  in.  Sc.  4. 


462  JOURNAL  [MAY 

Dined  at  home  and  wrote  in  the  evening. 

May  17. — I  never  stirred  from  my  seat  all  this  day.  My  reflec- 
tions, as  suggested  by  Walter's  illness,  were  highly  uncomfortable ; 
and  to  divert  it  I  wrought  the  whole  day,  save  when  I  was  obliged 
to  stop  and  lean  my  head  on  my  hand.  Real  affliction,  however,  has 
something  in  it  by  which  it  is  sanctified.  It  is  a  weight  which,  how- 
ever oppressive,  may  like  a  bar  of  iron  be  conveniently  disposed  on 
the  sufferer's  person.  But  the  insubstantiality  of  a  hypochondriac 
affection  is  one  of  its  greatest  torments.  You  have  a  huge  feather- 
bed on  your  shoulders,  which  rather  encumbers  and  oppresses  you 
than  calls  forth  strength  and  exertion  to  bear  it.  There  is  something 
like  madness  in  that  opinion,  and  yet  it  has  a  touch  of  reality. 
Heaven  help  me ! 

May  18. — I  resolved  to  take  exercise  to-day,  so  only  wrought  till 
twelve.  I  sent  off  some  sheets  and  copy  to  Dr.  Lardner.  I  find  my 
written  page  goes  as  better  than  one  to  two  of  his  print,  so  a  little 
more  than  one  hundred  and  ninety  of  my  writing  will  make  up  the 
sum  wanted.  I  sent  him  off  as  far  as  page  sixty-two.  Went  to  Mr. 
Colvin  Smith's  at  one,  and  sat  for  my  picture  to  three.  There  must 
be  an  end  of  this  sitting.  It  devours  my  time. 

I  wrote  in  the  evening  to  Walter,  James  MacCulloch,  to  Dr.  Lard- 
ner, and  others,  and  settled  some  other  correspondence. 

May  19. — I  went  to  the  Court,  and  abode  there  till  about  one, 
and  in  the  Library  from  one  to  two,  when  I  was  forced  to  attend  a 
public  meeting  about  the  King's  statue.  I  have  no  turn  for  these 
committees,  and  yet  I  get  always  jamm'd  into  them.  They  take  up 
a  cruel  deal  of  time  in  a  way  very  unsatisfactory.  Dined  at  home, 
and  wrought  hard.  I  shall  be  through  the  Bruce's  reign.  It  is 
lengthy ;  but,  hang  it,  it  was  our  only  halcyon  period.  I  shall  be 
soon  done  with  one-half  of  the  thousand  pound's  worth. 

May  20. — Mr.  Cadell  breakfasted  with  us,  with  a  youngster  for 
whom  he  wants  a  letter  to  the  Commander  or  Governor  of  Bombay. 
After  breakfast  C.  and  I  had  some  talk  of  business.  His  tidings,  like 
those  of  ancient  Pistol,  are  of  Africa  and  golden  joys.  He  is  sure 
of  selling  at  the  starting  8000  copies  of  the  Magnum,  at  a  profit  of 
£70  per  1000 — that  is,  per  month.  This  seems  certain.  But  he 
thinks  the  sale  will  rise  to  12,000,  which  will  be  £280  more,  or  £840 
in  all.  This  will  tell  out  a  gross  divisible  profit  of  upwards  of  £25,- 
000.  This  is  not  unlikely,  but  after  this  comes  a  series  of  twenty 
volumes  at  least,  which  produce  only  half  that  quantity  indeed ;  but 
then  the  whole  profits,  save  commissions,  are  the  author's.  That  will 
come  to  as  much  as  the  former,  say  £50,000  in  all.  This  supposes  I 
carry  on  the  works  of  fiction  for  two  or  three  novels  more.  But  be- 
sides all  this,  Cadell  entertains  a  plan  of  selling  a  cheaper  edition  by 
numbers  and  numbermen,  on  which  he  gives  half  the  selling  price. 
One  man,  Mr.  Ireland,  offers  to  take  1 0,000  copies  of  the  Magnum  and 
talks  of  25,000.  This  allows  a  profit  of  £50  per  thousand  copies, 


1829.]  JOURNAL  463 

not  much  worse  than  the  larger  copy,  and  Cadell  thinks  to  carry  on 
both.  I  doubt  this.  I  have  great  apprehension  that  these  interlo- 
pers would  disgust  the  regular  trade,  with  whom  we  are  already  deep- 
ly engaged.  I  also  foresee  selling  the  worst  copies  at  the  higher 
price.  All  this  must  be  thought  and  cared  for.  In  the  meantime,  I 
see  a  fund,  from  which  large  payments  may  be  made  to  the  Trustees, 
capable  of  extinguishing  the  debt,  large  as  it  is,  in  ten  years  or  ear- 
lier, and  leaving  a  reversion  to  my  family  of  the  copyrights.  Sweet 
bodements1 — good  —  but  we  must  not  reckon  our  chickens  before 
they  are  hatched,  though  they  are  chipping  the  shell  now.  We  will 
see  how  the  stream  takes. 

Dined  at  a  public  dinner  given  to  the  excellent  Lord  Dalhousie 
before  his  departure  for  India.  An  odd  way  of  testifying  respect  to 
public  characters,  by  eating,  drinking,  and  roaring.  The  names,  how- 
ever, will  make  a  good  show  in  the  papers.  Home  at  ten.  Good 
news  from  Sophia  and  Walter.  I  am  zealous  for  the  Mediterranean 
when  the  season  comes,  which  may  be  the  beginning  of  September. 

May  21. — This  is  only  the  23d  on  which  I  write,  yet  I  have  for- 
gotten anything  that  has  passed  on  the  21st  worthy  of  note.  I  wrote 
a  good  deal,  I  know,  and  dined  at  home.  The  step  of  time  is  noise- 
less as  it  passes  over  an  old  man.  The  non  est  tanti  mingles  itself  with 
everything. 

May  22. — I  was  detained  long  in  the  Court,  though  Ham.  had  re- 
turned to  his  labour.  We  dined  with  Captain  Basil  Hall,  and  met  a 
Mr.  Codman,  or  some  such  name,  with  his  lady  from  Boston.  The 
last  a  pleasant  and  well  -  mannered  woman,  the  husband  Bostonian 
enough.  We  had  Sir  William  Arbuthnot,  besides,  and  his  lady. 

By-the-bye,  I  should  have  remembered  that  I  called  on  my  old 
friend,  Lady  Charlotte  Campbell,  and  found  her  in  her  usual  good- 
humour,  though  miffed  a  little — I  suspect  at  the  history  of  Gillespie 
Grumach  in  the  Legend  of  Montrose.  I  saw  Haining  also,  looking 
thin  and  pale.  These  should  have  gone  to  the  memorandum  of  yes- 
terday. 

May  23. — Went  to-day  to  call  on  the  Commissioner,3  and  saw,  at 
his  Grace's  Levee,  the  celebrated  divine,  soi-disant  prophet,  Irving.3 
He  is  a  fine-looking  man  (bating  a  diabolical  squint),  with  talent  on 
his  brow  and  madness  in  his  eye.  His  dress,  and  the  arrangement 
of  his  hair,  indicated  that  much  attention  had  been  bestowed  on  his 
externals,  and  led  me  to  suspect  a  degree  of  self-conceit,  consistent 
both  with  genius  and  insanity. 

Came  home  by  Cadell's,  who  persists  in  his  visions  of  El  Dorado. 
He  insists  that  I  will  probably  bring  £60,000  within  six  years  to  rub 
off  all  Constable's  debts,  which  that  sum  will  do  with  a  vengeance. 

*  Macbeth.  Act  iv.  Sc.  1.  3  Rev.  Edward  Irving,  minister  of  the  Scot- 

*  Lord  Forbes  was  at  this  time  His  Majesty's      tish  Church  in  London,  was  deposed  March, 
High  Commissioner  to  the  General  Assembly      1833,  and  died  Dec.  1834,  aged  forty-two. 

of  the  Church  of  Scotland:  he  had  been  ap- 
pointed in  1826. 


464  JOURNAL  [MAY 

Cadell  talks  of  offering  for  the  Poetry  to  Longman.  I  fear  they  will 
not  listen  to  him.  The  Napoleon  he  can  command  when  he  likes  by 
purchasing  their  stock  in  hand.  The  lives  of  the  Novelists  may  also 
t>e  had.  Pleasant  schemes  all  these,  but  dangerous  to  build  upon. 
Yet  in  looking  at  the  powerful  machine  which  we  have  put  in  motion, 
it  must  be  owned  "  as  broken  ships  have  come  to  land." 

Waited  on  the  Commissioner  at  five  o'clock,  and  had  the  pleasure 
to  remain  till  eight,  when  the  debate  in  the  Assembly  was  over.  The 
question  which  employed  their  eloquence  was  whether  the  celebrated 
Mr.  Irving  could  sit  there  as  a  ruling  elder.1  It  was  settled,  I  think 
justly,  that  a  divine,  being  of  a  different  order  of  officers  in  the  Kirk, 
cannot  assume  the  character  of  a  ruling  elder,  seeing  he  cannot  dis- 
charge its  duties. 

Mr.  Irving  dined  with  us.  I  could  hardly  keep  my  eyes  off 
him  while  we  were  at  table.  He  put  me  in  mind  of  the  devil  dis- 
guised as  an  angel  of  light,  so  ill  did  that  horrible  obliquity  of  vision 
harmonise  with  the  dark  tranquil  features  of  his  face,  resembling  that 
of  our  Saviour  in  Italian  pictures,  with  the  hair  carefully  arranged  in 
the  same  manner.  There  was  much  real  or  affected  simplicity  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  spoke.  He  rather  made  play,  and  spoke  much 
across  the  table  to  the  Solicitor,  and  seemed  to  be  good-humoured. 
But  he  spoke  with  that  kind  of  unction  which  is  nearly  [allied]  to 
cajolerie.  He  boasted  much  of  the  tens  of  thousands  that  attended 
his  ministry  at  the  town  of  Annan,  his  native  place,  till  he  wellnigh 
provoked  me  to  say  he  was  a  distinguished  exception  to  the  rule  that 
a  prophet  was  not  esteemed  in  his  own  country.  But  time  and  place 
were  not  fitting. 

May  24. — I  wrote  or  wrought  all  the  morning,  yea,  even  to  dinner- 
time. Miss  Kerr,  and  Mrs.  Skene,  and  Will  Clerk  dined.  Skene  came 
from  the  Commissioner's  at  seven  o'clock.  We  had  a  merry  evening. 
Clerk  exults  in  the  miscarriage  of  the  Bill  for  the  augmentation  of 
the  judges'  salaries.  He  and  the  other  clerks  in  the  Jury  Court  had 
hoped  to  have  had  a  share  in  the  proposed  measure,  but  the  Court 
had  considered  it  as  being  nos  poma  natamus.  I  kept  our  friends 
quiet  by  declining  to  move  in  a  matter  which  was  to  expose  us  to  the 
insult  of  a  certain  refusal.  Clerk,  with  his  usual  felicity  of  quota- 
tion, said  they  should  have  remembered  the  Clown's  exhortation  to 
Lear,  "Good  nuncle,  tarry  and  take  the  fool  with  you."2 

May  25. — Wrote  in  the  morning.  Dr.  Macintosh  Mackay  came 
to  breakfast,  and  brought  with  him,  to  show  me,  the  Young  Cheva- 
lier's target,  purse,  and  snuff-box,  the  property  of  Cluny  MacPherson. 
The  pistols  are  for  holsters,  and  no  way  remarkable ;  a  good  service- 
able pair  of  weapons  silver  mounted.  The  targe  is  very  handsome 
indeed,  studded  with  ornaments  of  silver,  chiefly  emblematic,  chosen 
with  much  taste  of  device  and  happily  executed.  There  is  a  con- 

1  That  is  as  a  lay-member  of  the  General  As-          a  Lear,  Act  i.  Sc.  4. 
Bembly  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  465 

trast  betwixt  the  shield  and  purse,  the  targe  being  large  and  heavy, 
the  purse,  though  very  handsome,  unusually  small  and  light.  After 
one  o'clock  I  saw  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Gordon ;  then  went  to 
Mr.  Smith's  to  finish  a  painting  for  the  last  time.  The  Duchess 
called  with  a  Swiss  lady,  to  introduce  me  to  her  friend,  while  I  was 
doing  penance.  I  was  heartily  glad  to  see  her  Grace  once  more. 
Called  in  at  Cadell's.  His  orders  continue  so  thick  that  he  must 
postpone  the  delivery  for  several  days,  to  get  new  engravings  thrown 
off,  etc.  Vogue  la  galere!  From  all  that  now  appears,  I  shall  be 
much  better  off  in  two  or  three  years  than  if  my  misfortunes  had 
never  taken  place.  Periissem  ni  periissem. 

Dined  at  a  dinner  given  by  the  Antiquarian  Society  to  Mr.  Hay 
Drummond,  Secretary  to  the  Society,  now  going  Consul  to  Tangiers. 
It  was  an  excellent  dinner — turtle,  champagne,  and  all  the  agremens 
of  a  capital  meal,  for  £l,  6s.  a-head.  How  Barry  managed  I  can't 
say.  The  object  of  this  compliment  spoke  and  drank  wine  inces- 
santly ;  good-naturedly  delighted  with  the  compliment,  which  he  re- 
peatedly assured  me  he  valued  more  than  a  hundred  pounds.  I  take 
it  that  after  my  departure,  which  was  early,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
"  carry  Mr.  Silence  to  bed."  l 

May  26. — The  business  at  the  Court  heavy.  Dined  at  Gala's, 
and  had  the  pleasure  to  see  him  in  amended  health.  Sir  John  and 
Lady  Hope  were  there,  and  the  evening  was  lively  and  pleasant. 
George  Square  is  always  a  melancholy  place  for  me.  I  was  dining 
next  door  to  my  father's  former  house.2 

May  27. — I  got  up  the  additional  notes  for  the  Waverley  Nov- 
els. They  seem  to  be  setting  sail  with  a  favourable  wind.  I  had  to- 
day a  most  kind  and  friendly  letter  from  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
which  is  a  thing  to  be  vain  of.  He  is  a  most  wonderful  man  to  have 
climbed  to  such  a  height  without  ever  slipping  his  foot.  Who  would 
have  said  in1815  that  the  Duke  would  stand  still  higher  in  1829, 
and  yet  it  indubitably  is  so.  We  dined  with  Lady  Charlotte  Camp- 
bell, now  Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  and  her  husband,  who  is  an  egregious 
fop  but  a  fine  draughtsman,,  Here  is  another  day  gone  without  work 
in  the  evening. 

May  28. — The  Court  as  usual  till  one  o'clock.  But  I  forgot  to 
say  Mr.  Mackintosh  Mackay  breakfasted,  and  inspected  my  curious 
Irish  MS.,  which  Dr.  Brinkley  gave  me.3  Mr.  Mackay,  I  should  say 
Doctor,  who  well  deserved  the  name,  reads  it  with  tolerable  ease,  so  I 
hope  to  knock  the  marrow  out  of  the  bone  with  his  assistance.  I 
came  home  and  despatched  proof-sheets  and  revises  for  Dr.  Lardner. 
I  saw  kind  John  Gibson,  and  made  him  happy  with  the  fair  prospects 

1  Id  Henry  IV.,  Act  v.  Sc.  3.  James  vr.    It  bears  the  following  inscription 

*  No.  25.  in  Sir  Walter's  hand: — "The  kind  donor  of  this 

8  The  manuscript  referred  to  -is  now  at  Ab-  book  is  the  Right  Rev.  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  famed 

botsford.    It  is  a  small  quarto  of  8JX  <>J  inches,  for  his  skill  in  science,  and  especially  as  an 

bound  in  old  mottled  leather,  and  consisting  astronomer."    For  contents  of  vol.  see  Appen- 

of  251  leaves  of  paper,  written  on  both  sides  in  dix.    Dr.  John  Brinkley,  Bishop  of  Cloyne,  was 

the  Irish  character,  apparently  in  the  reign  of  Astronomer  Royal  for  Ireland. 

30 


466  JOURNAL  [MAY 

of  the  Magnum.  He  quite  agrees  in  my  views.  A  young  clergy- 
man, named  M'Combie,  from  Aberdeenshire,  also  called  to-day.  I 
have  had  some  consideration  about  the  renewal  or  re-translation  of 
the  Psalmody.  I  had  peculiar  views  adverse  to  such  an  undertak- 
ing.1 In  the  first  place,  it  would  be  highly  unpopular  with  the  lower 
and  more  ignorant  rank,  many  of  whom  have  no  idea  of  the  change 
which  those  spiritual  poems  have  suffered  in  translation,  but  consider 
their  old  translations  as  the  very  songs  which  David  composed.  At 
any  rate,  the  lower  class  think  that  our  fathers  were  holier  and  better 
men  than  we,  and  that  to  abandon  their  old  hymns  of  devotion,  in 
order  to  grace  them  with  newer  and  more  modish  expression,  would 
be  a  kind  of  sacrilege.  Even  the  best  informed,  who  think  on  the 
subject,  must  be  of  opinion  that  even  the  somewhat  bald  and  rude 
language  and  versification  of  the  Psalmody  gives  them  an  antique 
and  venerable  air,  and  their  want  of  the  popular  graces  of  modish 
poetry  shows  they  belong  to  a  style  where  ornaments  are  not  re- 
quired. They  contain,  besides,  the  very  words  which  were  spoken 
and  sung  by  the  fathers  of  the  Reformation,  sometimes  in  the  wilder- 
ness, sometimes  in  fetters,  sometimes  at  the  stake.  If  a  Church  pos- 
sessed the  vessels  out  of  which  the  original  Reformers  partook  of  the 
Eucharist,  it  would  be  surely  bad  taste  to  melt  them  down  and  ex- 
change them  for  more  modern.  No,  no.  Let  them  write  hymns  and 
paraphrases  if  they  will,  but  let  us  have  still 

"All  people  that  on  earth  do  dwell!"2 

Law  and  devotion  must  lose  some  of  their  dignity  as  often  as  they 
adopt  new  fashions. 

May  30. — The  Skenes  came  in  to  supper  last  night.  Dr.  Scott 
of  Haslar  Hospital  came  to  breakfast.  He  is  a  nephew  of  Scott  of 
Scalloway,  who  is  one  of  the  largest  proprietors  in  Shetland.  I  have 
an  agreeable  recollection  of  the  kindness  and  hospitality  of  these  re- 
mote isles,  and  of  this  gentleman's  connections^  in  particular,  who 
welcomed  me  both  as  a  stranger  and  a  Scott,  being  duly  tenacious  of 
their  clan.  This  young  gentleman  is  high  in  the  medical  department 
of  the  navy.  He  tells  me  that  the  Ultima  Thule  is  improving  rap- 
idly. The  old  clumsy  plough  is  laid  aside.  They  have  built  several 
stout  sloops  to  go  to  the  deep-sea  fishing,  instead  of  going  thither  in 

'  See  letter  to  Principal  Baird,  ante,  p.  270  n.  to  him  a  psalm.  She  proceeded  to  do  so,  when 

he  gently  interposed,  saying,  "No!  no!  the 

a  The  first  line  of  the  Scottish  metrical  ver-  Scotch  Psalms."  After  reading  to  him  a  little 

sion  of  the  hundredth  Psalm.  Mr.  Lockhart  while,  he  expressed  a  wish  to  be  moved  nearer 

tells  us,  in  his  affecting  account  of  Sir  Walter's  the  window,  through  which  he  looked  long  and 

illness,  that  his  love  for  the  old  metrical  ver-  earnestly  up  and  down  the  valley  and  towards 

sion  of  the  Psalms  continued  unabated  to  the  the  sky,  aud  then  on  the  woman's  face,  saying: 

end.  A  story  has  been  told,  on  the  authority  "I'll  know  it  all  before  night."  This  story  will 

of  the  nurse  in  attendance,  that  on  the  morn-  find  some  confirmation  from  the  entry  in  the 

ing  of  the  day  on  which  he  died,  viz.,  on  the  Journal  under  September  24,  1830:  •'!  think  / 

21st  Sept.  1832,  he  opened  his  eyes  once  more,  will  be  in  the  secret  next  week,  unless  I  recruit 

quite  conscious,  and  calmly  asked  her  to  read  greatly." 


1829.] 


JOURNAL 


467 


open  boats,  which  consumed  so  much  time  between  the  shore  and 
the  haaf  or  fishing  spot.  Pity  but  they  would  use  a  steam-boat  to 
tow  them  out !  I  have  a  real  wish  to  hear  of  Zetland's  advantage. 
I  often  think  of  its  long  isles,  its  towering  precipices,  its  capes  cov- 
ered with  sea-fowl  of  every  class  and  description  that  ornithology 
can  find  names  for,  its  deep  caves,  its  smoked  geese,  and  its  sour  sil- 
locks.  I  would  like  to  see  it  again.  After  the  Court  I  came  round 
by  Cadell,  who  is  like  Jemmy  Taylor, 

"  Full  of  mirth  and  full  of  glee," 

for  which  he  has  good  reason,  having  raised  the  impression  of  the 
Magnum  to  12,000  copies,  and  yet  the  end  is  not,  for  the  only  puz- 
zle now  is  how  to  satisfy  the  delivery  fast  enough,1 

May  31. — We  dined  at  Cralgcrook  with  Jeffrey.  It  is  a  most 
beautiful  place,  tastefully  planted  with  shrubs  and  trees,  and  so  se- 
questered, that  after  turning  into  the  little  avenue,  all  symptoms  of 
the  town  are  left  behind  you.  He  positively  gives  up  the  Edinburgh 
Review?  A  very  pleasant  evening.  Rather  a  glass  of  wine  too  much, 
for  I  was  heated  during  the  night.  Very  good  news  of  Walter. 


»  In  a  letter  to  his  son  at  this  time  he  says 
the  "sale  of  the  Novels  is  pro-di-gi-ous.  If  it 
last  but  a  few  years  it  will  clear  my  feet  of  old 
encumbrances."—  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  32. 


8  Jeffrey,  who  had  just  retired  from  the  edi- 
torship of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  was  succeed- 
ed by  Macvey  Napier,  whose  first  No.  was  pub- 
lished in  October,  1829. 


JUNE 

June  1. — Being  Sunday  I  remained  to  work  the  whole  day,  and 
finished  half  of  the  proposed  volume  of  History.  I  was  not  dis- 
turbed the  whole  day,  a  thing  rather  unusual. 

June  2. — Received  Mr.  Rees  of  London  and  Col.  Ferguson  to 
breakfast.  Mr.  Rees  is  clearly  of  opinion  our  scheme  (the  Magnum) 
must  answer.1  I  got  to  letter-writing  after  breakfast,  and  cleared  off 
old  scores  in  some  degree.  Dr.  Ross  called  and  would  hardly  hear  of 
my  going  out.  I  was  obliged,  however,  to  attend  the  meeting  of 
the  trustees  for  the  Theatre.3  The  question  to  be  decided  was, 
whether  we  should  embrace  an  option  left  to  us  of  taking  the  old 
Theatre  at  a  valuation,  or  whether  we  should  leave  it  to  Mrs.  Siddons 
and  Mr.  Murray  to  make  the  best  of  it.  There  were  present  Sir  Pat- 
rick Murray,  Baron  Hume,  Lord  Provost,  Sir  John  Hay,  Mr.  Gilbert 
Innes,  and  myself.  We  were  all  of  opinion  that  personally  we  ought 
to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  But  I  thought  as  trustees  for  the  pub- 
lic, we  were  bound  to  let  the  public  know  how  the  matter  stood,  and 
that  they  might,  if  they  pleased,  have  the  theatrical  property  for 
£16,000,  which  is  dog  cheap.  They  were  all  clear  to  give  it  up  (the 
right  of  reversion)  to  Mrs.  Siddons.  I  am  glad  she  should  have  it, 
for  she  is  an  excellent  person,  and  so  is  her  brother.  But  I  think  it 
has  been  a  little  jobbish.  There  is  a  clause  providing  the  new  pat- 
entees may  redeem.  I  desired  that  the  circumstance  should  be  noted, 
that  we  were  only  exercising  our  own  judgment,  leaving  the  future 
trustees  to  exercise  theirs.  I  rather  insisted  that  there  should  be 
some  saving  clause  of  this  kind,  even  for  the  sake  of  our  honour. 
But  I  could  not  prevail  upon  my  colleagues  to  put  such  a  saving 
clause  on  the  minutes,  though  they  agreed  to  the  possibility  of  the 
new  patentees  redeeming  on  behalf  of  the  public.  I  do  not  think  we 
have  done  right. 

I  called  on  Mr.  Cadell,  whose  reports  of  the  Magnum  might  fill  up 
the  dreams  of  Alnaschar  should  he  sleep  as  long  as  the  seven  sleep- 
ers. The  rest  was  labour  and  letters  till  bed-time. 

June  3. — The  ugly  symptoms  still  continue.  Dr.  Ross  does  not 
make  much  of  it,  and  I  think  he  is  apt  to  look  grave.3  I  wrote  in 

1  The  first  volume  had  just  been  issued  with  *  Theatre  Royal,  Edinburgh,  which  stood  at 

a  dedication  to  the  King.    The  series  was  com-  that  time  in  Shakespeare  Square,  the  site  of 

pleted  in  48  vols. ,  published  at  the  beginning  the  present  General  Post-Office, 

of  each  month,  between  1829-33,  and  the  cir-  3  Mr.  Lockhart  remarks  that,  besides   the 

culation  went  on  increasing  until  it  reached  usual  allowance  of  rheumatism,  and  other  loss- 

35,000  monthly.  er  ailments,  Sir  Walter  had  an  attack  that 


JUNE,  1829.]  JOURNAL  469 

the  morning.  Dr.  Macintosh  Mackay  came  to  breakfast,  and  brought 
a  Gaelic  book,  which  he  has  published — the  Poetry  of  Rob  Donn — 
some  of  which  seems  pretty  as  he  explained  it.  Court  kept  me  till 
near  two,  and  then  home  comes  I.  Afternoon  and  evening  was  spent 
as  usual.  In  the  evening  Dr.  Ross  ordered  me  to  be  cupped,  an  op- 
eration which  I  only  knew  from  its  being  practised  by  that  eminent 
medical  practitioner  the  barber  of  Bagdad.  It  is  not  painful ;  and,  I 
think,  resembles  a  giant  twisting  about  your  flesh  between  his  finger 
and  thumb. 

June  4. — I  was  obliged  to  absent  myself  from  the  Court  on  Dr. 
Ross's  positive  instance  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  I  was  compelled  to  send 
an  apology  to  Hopetoun  House,  where  I  expected  to  see  Madame 
Caradori,  who  was  to  sing  Jock  of  Hazeldean.  I  wrote  the  song  for 
Sophia;  and  I  find  my  friends  here  still  prefer  her  to  the  foreign  syren. 

"  However,  Madame  Caradori, 
To  miss  you  I  am  very  sorry, 
I  should  have  taken  it  for  glory 
To  have  heard  you  sing  my  Border  story." 

I  worked  at  the  Tales  of  my  Grandfather,  but  leisurely. 

June  5. — Cadell  came  to  dine  with  me  tete-a-tete,  for  the  girls  are 
gone  to  Hopetoun  House.  We  had  ample  matter  to  converse  upon, 
for  his  horn  was  full  of  good  news.  While  we  were  at  dinner  we  had 
letters  from  London  and  Ireland,  which  decided  him  to  raise  the  im- 
pression of  Waverley  to  15,000.  This,  with  10,000  on  the  number 
line  which  Ireland  is  willing  to  take,  will  make  £18,000  a  year  of  di- 
visible profit.  This  leads  to  a  further  speculation,  as  I  said,  of  great 
importance.  Longman  &  Co.  have  agreed  to  sell  their  stock  on 
hand  of  the  Poetry,  in  which  they  have  certain  shares,  their  shares 
included,  for  £8000.  Cadell  thinks  he  could,  by  selling  off  at  cheap 
rates,  sorting,  making  waste,  etc.,  get  rid  of  the  stock  for  about  £5000, 
leaving  £3000  for  the  purchase  of  the  copyrights,  and  proposes  to 
close  the  bargain  as  much  cheaper  as  he  can,  but  at  all  events  to  close 
it.  Whatever  shall  fall  short  of  the  price  returned  by  the  stock, 
the  sale  of  which  shall  be  entirely  at  his  risk,  shall  be  reckoned  as 
the  price  of  the  copyright,  and  we  shall  pay  half  of  that  balance.  I 
had  no  hesitation  in  authorising  him  to  proceed  in  his  bargain  with 
Owen  Rees  of  Longman's  house  upon  that  principle.  For  supposing, 
according  to  Cadell's  present  idea,  the  loss  on  the  stock  shall  amount 
to  £2000  or  £3000,  the  possession  of  the  entire  copyright  undivided 
would  enable  us,  calculating  upon  similar  success  to  that  of  the  Nov- 
els, to  make  at  least  £500  per  cent.  Longman  &  Co.  have  indeed  an 
excellent  bargain,  but  then  so  will  we.  We  pay  dear  indeed  for  what 

season  of  a  nature  which  gave  his  family  great  of  headache  and  nervous  irritation,  certain 
alarm,  and  which  for  some  days  he  himself  re-  haemorrhages  indicated  the  sort  of  relief  "re- 
garded with  the  darkest  prognostications.  Aft-  quired,  and  he  obtained  it  from  copious  cup- 
er  some  weeks,  during  which  he  complained  ping.—  Life,  vol.  ix.  p.  327-8. 


470  JOURNAL  [JUNK 

the  ostensible  subject  of  sale  is,  but  if  it  sets  free  almost  the  whole 
of  our  copyrights,  and  places  them  in  our  own  hands,  we  get  a  most 
valuable  quid  pro  quo.  There  is  only  one-fourth,  I  think,  of  Marmion 
in  Mr.  Murray's  hands,  and  it  must  be  the  deuce  if  that  cannot  be  [se- 
cured].1 Mr.  Cadell  proposed  that,  as  he  took  the  whole  books  on 
his  risk,  he  ought  to  have  compensation,  and  that  it  should  consist  in 
the  sum  to  be  given  to  me  for  arranging  and  making  additions  to  the 
volumes  of  Poetry  thus  to  be  republished.  I  objected  to  this,  for  in 
the  first  place  he  may  suffer  no  loss,  for  the  books  may  go  off  more 
rapidly  than  he  thinks  or  expects.  In  the  second  place,  I  do  not 
know  what  my  labours  in  the  Poetry  may  be.  In  either  case  it  is  a 
blind  bargain ;  but  if  he  should  be  a  sufferer  beyond  the  clear  half 
of  the  loss,  which  we  agree  to  share  with  him,  I  agreed  to  make  him 
some  compensation,  and  he  is  willing  to  take  what  I  shall  think  just ; 
so  stands  our  bargain.  Remained  at  home  and  wrote  about  four  pages 
of  Tales.  I  should  have  done  more,  but  my  head,  as  Squire  Sullen 
says,  "  aiked  consumedly."2  Rees  has  given  Cadell  a  written  offer  to 
be  binding  till  the  twelfth ;  meantime  I  have  written  to  Lockhart  to 
ask  John  Murray  if  he  will  treat  for  the  fourth  share  of  Marmion, 
which  he  possesses.  It  can  be  worth  but  little  to  him,  and  gives  us 
all  the  copyrights.  I  have  a  letter  from  Sir  Thomas  Dick  Lauder, 
touching  a  manuscript  of  Messrs.  Hay  Allan  called  the  Vestiarium 
Scotice  by  a  Sir  Richard  Forrester.  If  it  is  an  imposition  it  is  clev- 
erly done,  but  I  doubt  the  quarter  it  comes  from.  These  Hay  Allans 
are  men  of  warm  imaginations.  It  makes  the  strange  averment  that 
all  the  Low-Country  gentlemen  and  border  clans  wore  tartan,  and 
gives  sets  of  them  all.  I  must  see  the  manuscript  before  I  believe 
in  it.  The  Allans  are  singular  men,  of  much  accomplishment  but 
little  probity — that  is,  in  antiquarian  matters.  Cadell  lent  me  £10, 
— funny  enough,  after  all  our  grand  expectations,  for  Croesus  to  want 
such  a  gratility ! 

June  7. — I  rose  at  seven,  and  wrote  to  Sir  Thomas  Lauder  a  long 
warning  on  the  subject  of  these  Allans  and  their  manuscript.8     Pro- 

1  See  infra,  p.  472.  ious  Messrs.  Hay  Allan.     But  I  think  it  imlis. 

4  The.  Beaux's  Stratagem,  Farquhar.  pensable  that  the  original  MS.  should  be  sent 

3  Through  the  courtesy  of  Miss  Dick  Lauder  for  a  month  or  so  to  the  Register  House  under 

I  am  enabled  to  give  the  letter  referred  to:—  the  charge  of  the  Deputy  Register,  Mr.  Thom- 

"MT  DEAR  SIR  THOMAS, — I  received  your  son,  that  its  antiquity  be  closely  scrutinised  by 
kind  letter  and  interesting  communication  competent  persons.  The  art  of  imitating  an- 
yesterday,  and  hasten  to  reply.  1  am  asham-  cient  writing  has  got  to  a  considerable  perfec- 
ed  of  the  limited  hospitality  I  was  able  to  offer  tion,  and  it  has  been  the  bane  of  Scottish  liter- 
Mr.  Lauder,  but  circumstances  permitted  me  ature,  and  disgrace  of  her  antiquities,  that  we 
no  more.  I  was  much  pleased  with  his  lively  have  manifested  an  eager  propensity  to  believe 
and  intelligent  manners,  and  hope  he  will  live  without  inquiry  and  propagate  the  errors  which 
to  be  a  comfort  and  a  credit  to  Lady  Lauder  weadopttoohastilyourselves.  The  general  prop- 
and  you.  osition  that  the  Lowlanders  ever  wore  plaids  is 

"  I  need  not  say  I  have  the  greatest  interest  difficult  to  swallow.  They  were  of  twenty  differ- 
in  the  MS.  which  you  mention.  In  case  it  shall  ent  races,  and  almost  all  distinctly  different  from 
really  prove  an  authentic  document,  there  the  Scots  Irish,  who  are  the  proper  Scots,  from 
would  not  be  the  least  difficulty  in  getting  the  which  the  Royal  Family  are  descended.  For  in- 
Bannatyne  Club  to  take,  perhaps,  100  copies,  stance,  there  is  scarce  a  great  family  in  the  Low- 
er obtaining  support  enough  so  as,  at  the  least,  lands  of  Scotland  that  is  not  to  be  traced  to  the 
to  preclude  the  possibility  of  loss  to  the  ingen-  Normans,  the  proudest  as  well  as  most  civilised 


1829.] 


JOURNAL 


471 


ceeded  to  write,  but  found  myself  pulled  up  by  the  necessity  of  read- 
ing a  little.  This  occupied  my  whole  morning.  The  Lord  President 
called  very  kindly  to  desire  me  to  keep  at  home  to-morrow.  I  thought 
of  being  out,  but  it  may  be  as  well  not.  I  am  somehow  or  other  either 
listless  or  lazy.  My  head  aches  cruelly.  I  made  a  fight  at  reading 
and  working  till  eleven,  and  then  came  sleep  with  a  party-coloured 
[mantle]  of  fantastic  hues,  and  wrapt  me  into  an  imaginary  world. 

June  8. — 1  wrote  the  whole  morning  till  two  o'clock.  Then  I  went 
into  the  gardens  of  Princes  Street,  to  my  great  exhilaration.  I  never 
felt  better  for  a  walk ;  also  it  is  the  first  I  have  taken  this  whole 
week  and  more.  I  visited  some  remote  garden  grounds,  where  I  had 
not  been  since  I  walked  there  with  the  good  Samaritan  Skene,  sadly 
enough,  at  the  time  of  my  misfortunes.1  The  shrubs  and  young  trees, 


race  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries.  Is 
it  natural  to  think  that  holding  the  Scots  in 
the  contempt  in  which  they  did,  they  would 
have  adopted  their  dress?  If  you  will  look  at 
Bruce's  speech  to  David  i.,  as  the  historian 
^Elred  tells  the  story,  you  will  see  he  talks  of 
the  Scots  as  a  British  officer  would  do  of  Cher- 
okees.  Or  take  our  country,  the  central  and 
western  part  of  the  border  :  it  was  British, 
Welsh  if  you  please,  with  the  language  and 
manners  of  that  people  who  certainly  wore  no 
tartan.  It  is  needless  to  prosecute  this,  though 
I  could  show,  I  think,  that  there  is  no  period 
in  Scottish  History  when  the  manners,  lan- 
guage, or  dress  of  the  Highlanders  were  adopt- 
ed in  the  Low  Country.  They  brought  them 
with  them  from  Ireland,  as  you  will  see  from 
the  very  curious  prints  in  Derrick's  picture  of 
Ireland,  where  you  see  the  chiefs  and  follow- 
ers of  the  wild  Irish  in  the  ordinary  Highland 
dress,  tempore  Queen  Elizabeth.  Besides  this, 
where  has  slept  this  universal  custom  that  no- 
where, unless  in  this  MS.,  is  it  even  heard  of? 
Lesley  knew  it  not,  though  the  work  had  been 
in  his  possession,  and  his  attention  must  have 
been  called  to  it  when  wniting  concerning  the 
three  races  of  Scots— Highlanders,  Lowlauders, 
and  Bordermen,  and  treating  of  their  dress  in 
particular.  Andrew  Borde  knows  nothing  of 
it,  nor  the  Frenchman  who  published  the  geo- 
graphical work  from  which  Pinkerton  copied 
the  prints  of  the  Highlander  and  Lowlander, 
the  former  in  a  frieze  plaid  or  mantle,  while 
the  Lowlander  s'truts  away  in  a  cjoak  and  trunk 
hose,  liker  his  neighbour  the  Fleming.  I  will 
not  state  other  objections,  though  so  many  oc- 
cur, that  the  authenticity  of  the  MS.  being 
proved,  I  would  rather  suppose  the  author  had 
been  some  tartan-weaver  zealous  for  his  craft, 
who  wished  to  extend  the  use  of  tartan  over 
the  whole  kingdom.  I  have  been  told,  and  be- 
lieve till  now,  that  the  use  of  tartan  was  never 
general  in  Scotland  (Lowlands)  until  the  Union, 
when  the  detestation  of  that  measure  led  it  to 
be  adopted  as  the  national  colour,  and  the  ladies 
all  affected  tartan  screens  or  mantles. 

"  Now,  a  word  to  your  own  private  ear,  my 
dear  Sir  Thomas.  I  have  understood  that  the 
Messrs.  Hay  Allan  are  young  men  of  talent, 
great  accomplishments,  enthusiasm  for  Scot- 
tish manners,  and  an  exaggerating  imagina- 
tion, which  possibly  deceives  even  themselves. 
I  myself  saw  one  of  these  gentlemen  wear  the 


Badge  of  High  Constable  of  Scotland,  which  he 
could  have  no  more  right  to  wear  than  the 
Crown.  Davidoff  used  also  to  amuse  us  with 
stories  of  knighthoods  and  orders  which  he  saw 
them  wear  at  Sir  William  Cumming  Gordon's. 
Now  this  is  all  very  well,  and  I  conceive  peo- 
ple may  fall  into  such  dreaming  habits  easily 
enough,  and  be  very  agreeable  and  talented 
men  in  other  respects,  and  may  be  very  amus- 
ing companions  in  the  country,  but  their  au- 
thority as  antiquaries  must  necessarily  be  a 
little  apocryphal  when  the  faith  of  MSS.  rests 
upon  their  testimony.  An  old  acquaintance  of 
mine,  Captain  Watson  of  the  navy,  told  me  he 
knew  these  gentlemen's  father,  and  had  served 
with  him;  he  was  lieutenant,  and  of  or  about 
Captain  Watson's  age,  between  sixty  I  suppose, 
and  seventy  at  present.  Now  what  chance  was 
there  that  either  from  age  or  situation  he  should 
be  receiving  gifts  from  the  young  Chevalier  of 
Highland  Manuscripts. 

"All  this,  my  dear  Sir  Thomas,  you  will 
make  your  own,  but  I  cannot  conceal  from 
you  my  reasons,  because  I  would  wish  you  to 
know  my  real  opinion.  If  it  is  an  imitation, 
it  is  a  very  good  one,  but  the  title  '  Liber  Ves- 
tiarium'  is  false  Latin  I  should  think  not  like- 
ly to  occur  to  a  Scotsman  of  Buchanan's  age. 
Did  you  look  at  the  watermark  of  the  MS.  ?  If 
the  Manuscript  be  of  undeniable  antiquity,  I 
consider  it  as  a  great  curiosity,  and  most  wor- 
thy to  be  published.  But  I  believe  nothing  else 
than  ocular  inspection  will  satisfy  most  cau- 
tious antiquaries.  ...  —  Yours,  my  dear  Sir 
Thomas,  always,  WALTKR  SCOTT.  " 

"  EDINBURGH,  5  June,  1829." 

The  Messrs.  Hay  Allan  subsequently  took  the 
names  of  John  Sobieski  Stuart  (who  assumed 
the  title  of  Comte  d'Albanie)  and  Charles  Ed- 
ward Stuart.  John  Sobieski  died  in  1872,  and 
Charles  Edward  in  1880.  The  "original"  of 
Sir  Richard  Forrester's  manuscript  was  never 
submitted  to  the  inspection  of  the  Deputy  Reg- 
ister, as  suggested  by  Scott;  but  it  was  pub- 
lished in  a  very  handsome  shape  a  dozen  years 
later,  and  furnished  a  text  for  an  article  in  the 
Quarterly,  in  which  the  authenticity  of  the 
book,  and  the  claims  of  the  author  and  his 
brother,  were  unsparingly  criticised  by  the  late 
Professor  Skene  of  Glasgow. — See  "The  Heirs 
of  the  Stuarts"  in  Quarterly  Review,\ol.  Ixxxii. 

'  Ante,  pp.  57.  58. 


472  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

which  were  then  invisible,  are  now  of  good  size,  and  gay  with  leaf 
and  blossom.  I,  too,  old  trunk  as  I  am,  have  put  out  tender  buds  of 
hope,  which  seemed  checked  for  ever. 

I  may  now  look  with  fair  hope  to  freeing  myself  of  obligation 
from  all  men,  and  spending  the  rest  of  my  life  in  ease  and  quiet. 
God  make  me  thankful  for  so  cheering  a  prospect ! 

June  9. — I  wrote  in  the  morning,  set  out  for  a  walk  at  twelve 
o'clock  as  far  as  Mr.  Cadell's.  I  found  him  hesitating  about  his  views, 
and  undecided  about  the  Number  plan.  He  thinks  the  first  plan  an- 
swers so  much  beyond  expectation  it  is  a  pity  to  interfere  with  it, 
and  talks  of  re-engraving  the  plates.  This  would  be  touchy,  but 
nothing  is  resolved  on. 

Anne  had  a  little  party,  where  Lady  Charlotte  Bury,  Lady  Hope- 
toun,  and  others  met  the  Caradori,  who  sung  to  us  very  kindly.  She 
sung  Jock  of  Hazeldean  very  well,  and  with  a  peculiar  expression  of 
humour.  Sandie  Ballantyne  kindly  came  and  helped  us  with  fiddle 
and  flageolet.  Willie  Clerk  was  also  here.  We  had  a  lunch,  and 
were  very  gay,  not  the  less  so  for  the  want  of  Mr.  Bury,  who  is  a 
thorough-paced  coxcomb,  with  some  accomplishments,  however.  I 
drank  two  glasses  of  champagne,  which  have  muddled  my  brains  for 
the  day.  Will  Clerk  promised  to  come  back  and  dine  on  the  wreck 
of  the  turkey  and  tongue,  pigeon-pie,  etc.  He  came,  accordingly, 
and  stayed  till  nine  ;  so  no  time  for  work.  It  was  not  a  lost  day,  how- 
ever.1 

June  10. — Nota  bene,  my  complaint  quite  gone.  I  attended  the 
Court,  and  sat  there  till  late.  Evening  had  its  lot  of  labour,  which  is, 
I  think,  a  second  nature  to  me.  It  is  astonishing  how  little  I  look 

1  There  are  so  few  of'Parsie  Latimer's"  bustle  of  the  marriage  feast,  to  secrete  himself 

letters  preserved  that  the  following  may  be  within  the  apartment,  and  that  soon  after  the 

given  relating  to  the  Bride  of  Lainmermoor: —  entry  of  the  married  pair,  or  at  least  as  soon  us 

4  the  parents  and  others  retreated  and  the  door 

•EDI».  8tpt.  1, 18ii9.  wag  ma(je  fast,  he  had  come  out  from  his  con- 

"MY  DEAR  SIR  WALTER, — I  greet  you  well  cealment,  attacked  and  desperately  wounded 
(which,  by  the  way,  is  the  proper  mode  of  sal-  the  bridegroom,  and  then  made  his  escape  by 
utation  in  this  cursed  weather,  that  is  enough  the  window  through  the  garden.  As  the  un- 
to make  us  all  greet).  But  to  come  to  my  pro-  fortunate  bride  never  spoke  after  having  ut- 
posal,  which  is  to  forward  to  you  a  communi-  tered  the  words  mentioned  by  Sir  Walter,  no 
cation  I  had  within  these  few  days  from  Sir  light  could  be  thrown  ou  the  matter  by  them. 
Robert  Home  Dalrymple  Elphinstone.  But  it  was  thought  that  Bucklaw's  obstinate 

"  After  expressing  the  great  pleasure  the  pe-  silence  on  the  subject  favoured  the  (supposition 

rusal  of  your  notes  to  the  new  edition  of  the  of  the  chastisement  having  been  inflicted  by 

Novels  had  given  him,  he  adds:  'I  wish  you  his  rival.    It  is  but  fair  to  give  the  unhappy 

would  give  him  a  hint  of  what  I  formerly  men-  victim  (who  was  by  all  accounts  a  most  gentle 

tioned  to  you  regarding  my  great-  grand/uint  and  feminine  creature)  the  benefit  of  an  expla- 

and  your  own  relative,  the  unfortunate  Bride  nation  on  a  doubtful  point.' 

of  Lammermoor.    It  was  first  mentioned  to  me  "  So  far  my  worthy  friend,  who  seems  a  little 

by  Miss  Maitland,  the  daughter  of  Lady  Rothes  jealous  of  the  poor  bride's  reputation.     I  send 

(they  were  the  nearest  neighbours  of  the  Stair  you  his  note,  and  you  can  make  what  you  like 

family  in  Wigtownshire),  and  I  afterwards  heard  of  it.    I  am  intending  a  little  jaunt  to  his  coun- 

the  tradition  from  others  in  that  country.     It  try,  and  we  mean  to  visit  sundry  old  castles  in 

was  to  the  following  effect,  that  when,  after  the  Abcrdeenshire,  and  wish  you  were  of  the  party, 

noise  and  violent  screaming  in  the  bridal  chain-  I  have  heard  nothing  of  Linton  [cognomen  for 

ber,  comparative  stillness  succeeded,  and  the  Sir  Adam  Ferguson]  this  summer.     I  hope  you 

door  was  forced,  the  window  was  found  open.  have  been  passing  your  time  agreeably.— With 

and  it  was  supposed  by  many  that  the  lover  best  compliments  to  all  friends,  I  remain,  my 

(Lord  Rutherford)  had,  by  the  connivance  of  dear  Sir  Walter,  ever  yours, 

some  of  the  servants,  found  means,  during  the  "  WM.  CLERK." 


1829.]  JOURNAL  473 

into  a  book  of  entertainment.  I  have  been  reading  over  the  Five 
Nights  of  St.  Albans, — very  much  extra  maenia  nostri  mundi,  and  pos- 
sessed of  considerable  merit,  though  the  author1  loves  to  play  at 
cherry-pit  with  Satan.4 

June  11. — I  was  kept  at  Court  by  a  hearing  till  near  three.  Then 
sat  to  Mr.  Graham  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  When  I  came  home,  be- 
hold a  letter  from  Mr.  Murray,  very  handsomely  yielding  up  the 
fourth  share  of  Marmion,  which  he  possessed.3  Afterwards  we  went 
to  the  theatre,  where  St.  Ronan's  Well  was  capitally  acted  by  Murray 
and  the  Bailie, — the  part  of  Clara  Mowbray  being  heavy  for  want  of 
Mrs.  Siddons.  Poor  old  Mrs.  Renaud,  once  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Powell, 
took  leave  of  the  stage.  As  I  was  going  to  bed  at  twelve  at  night,  in 
came  R.  P.  Gillies  like  a  tobacco  cask.  I  shook  him  off  with  some 
difficulty,  pleading  my  having  been  lately  ill,  but  he  is  to  call  to-mor- 
row morning. 

June  12. — Gillies  made  his  appearance.  I  told  him  frankly  I 
thought  he  conducted  his  affairs  too  irregularly  for  any  one  to  assist 
him,  and  I  could  not  in  charity  advise  any  one  to  encourage  subscrip- 
tions, but  that  I  should  subscribe  myself,  so  I  made  over  to  him 
about  £50,  which  the  Foreign  Review  owes  me,  and  I  will  grow  hard- 
hearted and  do  no  more.  I  was  not  long  in  the  Court,  but  I  had  to 
look  at  the  controversy  about  the  descent  of  the  Douglas  family,  then 
I  went  to  Cadell  and  found  him  still  cock-a-hoop.  He  has  raised  the 
edition  to  17,000,  a  monstrous  number,  yet  he  thinks  it  will  clear  the 
20,000,  but  we  must  be  quiet  in  case  people  jalouse  the  failure  of  the 
plates.  I  called  on  Lady  J.  S.4  When  I  came  home  I  was  sleepy 
and  over-walked.  By  the  way,  I  sat  till  Graham  finished  my  picture.5 
I  fell  fast  asleep  before  dinner,  and  slept  for  an  hour.  After  dinner 
I  wrote  to  Walter,  Charles,  Lockhart,  and  John  Murray,  and  took  a 
screed  of  my  novel ;  so  concluded  the  evening  idly  enough. 

June  13. — We  hear  of  Sophia's  motions.  She  is  to  set  sail  by 
steam-boat  on  the  16th,  Tuesday,  and  Charles  is  to  make  a  run  down 
with  her.  But,  alas !  my  poor  Johnnie  is,  I  fear,  come  to  lay  his  bones 
in  his  native*  land.  Sophia  can  no  longer  disguise  it  from  herself, 
that  as  his  strength  weakens  the  disease  increases.  The  poor  child 
is  so  much  bent  on  coming  to  see  Abbotsford  and  grandpapa,  that  it 
would  be  cruel  not  to  comply  with  his  wish — and  if  affliction  comes, 
we  will  bear  it  best  together. 

"Not  more  the  schoolboy  who  expires 
Far  from  his  native  home  desires 
To  see  some  friend's  familiar  face, 
Or  meet  a  parent's  last  embrace." 

1  Written  by  William  Mudford,  born  1782,          «  The  last  reference  in  the  Journal  to  his  old 
died  1848  friend  Lady  Jane  Stuart,  who  died  on  the  fol- 

»  Twelfth  Nialit    Art  in  Sr  4  lowing  October. 

»  Now  in  the  rooms  of  the  Royal  Society, 
3  See  Lift,  vol.  ix.  pp.  325-6.  Edinburgh. 


474  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

It  must  be  all  as  God  wills  it.  Perhaps  his  native  air  may  be  of 
service. 

More  news  from  Cadell.  He  deems  it  necessary  to  carry  up  the 
edition  to  20,000. 

[Abbots/ord.] — This  day  was  fixed  for  a  start  to  Abbotsford,  where 
we  arrived  about  six  o'clock,  evening.  To  my  thinking,  I  never  saw 
a  prettier  place  ;  and  even  the  trees  and  flowers  seemed  to  say  to  me, 
We  are  your  own  again.  But  I  must  not  let  imagination  jade  me 
thus.  It  would  be  to  make  disappointment  doubly  bitter  ;  and,  God 
knows,  I  have  in  my  child's  family  matter  enough  to  check  any  exu- 
berant joy. 

June  14. — A  delicious  day — threatening  rain;  but  with  the  lan- 
guid and  affecting  manner  in  which  beauty  demands  sympathy  when 
about  to  weep.  I  wandered  about  the  banks  and  braes  all  morning, 
and  got  home  about  three,  and  saw  everything  in  tolerable  order,  ex- 
cepting that  there  was  a  good  number  of  branches  left  in  the  walks. 
There  is  a  great  number  of  trees  cut,  and  bark  collected.  Colonel 
Ferguson  dined  with  us,  and  spent  the  afternoon. 

June  15. — Another  charming  day.  Up  and  despatched  packets 
for  Ballantyne  and  Cadell ;  neither  of  them  was  furiously  to  the  pur- 
pose, but  I  had  a  humour  to  be  alert.  I  walked  over  to  Huntly  Burn, 
and  round  by  Chiefswood  and  Janeswood,  where  I  saw  Captain  Ham- 
ilton. He  is  busy  finishing  his  Peninsular  campaigns.1  lie  will  not 
be  cut  out  by  Napier,  whose  work  has  a  strong  party  cast ;  and  being, 
besides,  purely  abstract  and  professional,  to  the  public  seems  very 
dull.  I  read  General  Miller's  account  of  the  South  American  War.8  I 
liked  it  the  better  that  Basil  Hall  brought  the  author  to  breakfast  with 
me  in  Edinburgh.  A  fine,  tall,  military  figure,  his  left  hand  withered 
like  the  prophet's  gourd,  and  plenty  of  scars  on  him.  There  have 
been  rare  doings  in  that  vast  continent ;  but  the  strife  is  too  distant, 
the  country  too  unknown,  to  have  the  effect  upon  the  imagination 
which  European  wars  produce. 

This  evening  I  indulged  in  the  far  niente — a  rare  event  with  me, 
but  which  I  enjoy  proportionally. 

June  16. — Made  up  parcel  for  Dr.  Lardner  ;  and  now  I  propose  to 
set  forth  my  memoranda  of  Byron  for  Moore's  acceptance,  which 
ought  in  civility  to  have  been  done  long  since.3  I  will  have  a  walk, 
however,  in  the  first  place. 

'  Annals  of  the  Peninsular  War.  3vols.  8vo,  "April  ssrt,  18». 

1829.  "MY  DEAR  SCOTT, — It  goes  to  my  heart  to 

3  Memoirs  of  General  Miller  in  the  Service  bother  you,  knowing  bow  bravely  and  glori- 

oft/ie  Republic  of  Peru.    2  vols.  8vo,  1829.  ously  you  are  employed  for  that  task-mislress 

3  Mr.  Lockhart  had  written  on  June  6:—  — Posterity.     But  you  may  thank  your  stars 

"  Moore  is  at  my  elbow  and  says  he  has  not  that  I  have  let  you  off  so  long.     All  that  you 

the  face  to  bother  you,  but  he  has  come  exact-  promised  me  about  Mrs.  Gordon  and  Gicht,  and 

ly  to  the  part  where  your  reminiscences  of  a  variety  of  other  things,  is  remitted  to  you; 

Lord  Byron  would  come  in;  so  he  is  waiting  but  I  positively  must  have  something  from  you 

for  a  week  or  so  in  case  they  should  be  forth-  of  your  recollections  personally  of  Byron— and 

coming."    And  Moore  himself  had  previously  that  as  soon  as  possible,  for  I  am  just  coming 

reminded  Sir  \Valter  of  his  promise.  to  the  period  of  your  acquaintance  with  him, 


1829.]  JOURNAL  476 

I  did  not  get  on  with  Byron  so  far  as  I  expected  —  began  it 
though,  and  that  is  always  something.  T  went  to  see  the  woods  at 
Huntly  Burn,  and  Mars  Lea,  etc.  Met  Captain  Hamilton,  who  tells 
me  a  shocking  thing.  Two  Messrs.  Stirling  of  Drumpellier  came  here 
and  dined  one  day,  and  seemed  spirited  young  men.  The  younger 
is  murdered  by  pirates.  An  Indian  vessel  in  which  he  sailed  was 
boarded  by  these  miscreants,  who  behaved  most  brutally  ;  and  he, 
offering  resistance  I  suppose,  was  shockingly  mangled  and  flung  into 
the  sea.  He  was  afterwards  taken  up  alive,  but  died  soon  after.  Such 
horrid  accidents  lie  in  wait  for  those  whom  we  see  "  all  joyous  and 
unthinking,"  '  sweeping  along  the  course  of  life  ;  and  what  end  may 
be  waiting  ourselves  ?  Who  can  tell  ? 

June  17.  —  Must  take  my  leave  of  sweet  Abbotsford,  and  my 
leisure  hour,  my  eve  of  repose.  To  go  to  town  will  take  up  the 
morning. 

[Edinburgh.]  —  We  set  out  about  eleven  o'clock,  got  to  Edinburgh 
about  four,  where  I  dined  with  Baron  Clerk  and  a  few  Exchequer 
friends  —  Lord  Chief  Baron,  Sir  Patrick  Murray,  Sir  Henry  Jardine, 
etc.,  etc. 

June  18.  —  Corrected  proofs  for  Dr.  Dionysius  Lardner.  Cadell 
came  to  breakfast.  Poor  fellow,  he  looks  like  one  who  had  been 
overworked  ;  and  the  difficulty  of  keeping  paper-makers  up  to  print- 
ers, printers  up  to  draughtsmen,  artists  to  engravers,  and  the  whole 
party  to  time,  requires  the  utmost  exertion.  He  has  actually  ordered 
new  plates,  although  the  steel  ones  which  we  employ  are  supposed 
to  throw  off  30,000  without  injury.  But  I  doubt  something  of  this. 
Well,  since  they  will  buckle  fortune  on  our  back  we  must  bear  it  schol- 
arly and  wisely."  I  went  to  Court.  Called  on  my  return  on  J.  B. 
and  Cadell.  At  home  I  set  to  correct  Ivanhoe.  I  had  twenty  other 
things  more  pressing  ;  but,  after  all,  these  novels  deserve  a  prefer- 

which  was,  I  think,  in  the  year  1814.    Tell  me  The  "memoranda"  were  not  acknowledged 

all  the  particulars  of  the  presents  you  exchang-  by  Moore  till  Oct.  31,  when  he  wrote  Scott  as 

ed,  and  if  his  letters  to  you  are  really  all  lost  follows:  — 

(which  I  will  still  hope  is  not  the  case);  try,  as  "MY  DEAR  SCOTT,  —  I  ought  to  blush  'terres- 

much  as  possible,  with  your  memory  trial  rosy  -  red,  shame's  proper  hue  '  for  not 


"You  will  have  seen  by  the  newspapers  the  might  have  drawn  from  my  silence,  namely, 

sad  loss  my  little  circle  of  home  has  experi-  that  I  was  satisfied,  and  had  all  that  I  asked 

enced,  a  loss  never  to  be  made  up  to  us  in  this  for     Your  few  pages  indeed  will  be  the  best 

world,  whatever  it  may  be  the  will  of  God  in  ornament  of  my  book.     Murray  wished  me  to 

another.    Mrs.  Moore's  own  health  is  much  write  to  you  (immediately  on  receipt  of  the 

broken,  and  she  is  about  to  try  what  Chelten-  last  MS.  you  sent  me)  to  press  your  asking 

ham  can  do  for  her,  while  I  proceed  to  finish  Hobhouse  for  the  letter  of  your  own  (in  1812) 

my  printing  in  town.     It  would  be  far  better  that  produced  Byron's  reply.    But  I  was  doubt- 

for  me  to  remain  in  my  present  quiet  retreat,  ful  whether  you  would  like  to  authorise  the 

where  I  am  working  quite  alone,  but  the  dev-  publication  of  this  letter,  and  besides  it  would 

ils  beckon  me  nearer  them,  and  I  must  begin  be  now  too  late,  as  the  devils  are  in  full  hue 

in  a  few  days.     Direct  to  me,  under  cover  to  and  cry  after  my  heels. 

Croker—  you  see  I  take  for  granted  you  will  "Health  and  prosperity  to  you,  my  dear 

have  a  packet  to  send  —  and  he  will  always  friend,  and  believe  me,  ever  yours  most  truly, 

know  where  to  find  me.  "THOMAS  MOOBB." 

"My  kindest  remembrances  to  Miss  Scott,  »  Burns. 
and  believe  me  ever,  my  very  dear  friend,  your 

truly  and  affectionate,            THOS.  MOORE.  "  "  Merry  Wives,  Act  I.  Sc.  3. 


476  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

ence.  Poor  Terry  is  totally  prostrated  by  a  paralytic  affection.  Con- 
tinuance of  existence  not  to  be  wished  for. 

To-morrow  I  expect  Sophia  and  her  family  by  steam. 

June  19. — Sophia,  and  Charles,  who  acted  as  her  escort,  arrived 
at  nine  o'clock  morning,  fresh  from  the  steamboat.  They  were  in 
excellent  health — also  the  little  boy  and  girl ;  but  poor  Johnnie  seems 
very  much  changed  indeed,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  the 
scene  shortly  closes.  There  is  obviously  a  great  alteration  in  strength 
and  features.  At  dinner  we  had  our  family  chat  on  a  scale  that  I  had 
not  enjoyed  for  many  years.  The  Skenes  supped  with  us. 

June  20. — Corrected  proof-sheets  in  the  morning  for  Dr.  Lardner. 
Then  I  had  the  duty  of  the  Court  to  perform. 

As  I  came  home  I  recommended  young  Shortreed  to  Mr.  Cadell 
for  a  printing  job  now  and  then  when  Ballantyne  is  over-loaded,  which 
Mr.  Cadell  promised  accordingly. 

Lady  Anna  Maria  Elliot's  company  at  dinner.  Helped  on  our 
family  party,  and  passed  the  evening  pleasantly  enough,  my  anxiety 
considering. 

June  21. — A  very  wet  Sunday.  I  employed  it  to  good  purpose, 
bestowing  much  labour  on  the  History,  ten  pages  of  which  are  now 
finished.  Were  it  not  for  the  precarious  health  of  poor  Johnnie  I 
would  be  most  happy  in  this  reunion  with  my  family,  but,  poor  child, 
this  is  a  terrible  drawback. 

June  22 — I  keep  working,  though  interruptedly.  But  the  heat  in 
the  midst  of  the  day  makes  me  flag  and  grow  irresistibly  drowsy. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Skene  came  to  supper  this  evening.  Skene  has  engaged 
himself  in  drawing  illustrations  to  be  etched  by  himself  for  Waverley. 
I  wish  it  may  do.1 

June  23. — I  was  detained  in  the  Court  till  half-past  [three].  Cap- 
tain William  Lockhart  dined  with  Skene.  The  Captain  s  kind  nature 
had  brought  him  to  Edinburgh  to  meet  his  sister-in-law. 

June  24. — I  was  detained  late  in  the  Court,  but  still  had  time  to 

>  Mr.  Skene  at  this  time  was  engaged  upon  a  the  Black  Dwarf,  Meiklestane  Moor,  Ellislie, 

series  of  etchings,  regarding  which  he  had  sev-  Earnsclifle,  are  all  and  each  vox  et  praeterea 

eral  letters  from  Sir  Walter,  one  of  which  may  nihil.     Westburnflut  once  was  a  real  spot,  now 

be  given  here : there  is  no  subject  for  the  pencil.    The  vestiges 

"My  DEAR  SKENK,—  I  enclose  you  Basil  Hall's  of  a  tower  at  the  junction  of  two  wild  brooks 

letter,  which  is  very  interesting  to  me  ;  but  I  with  a  rude  hillside,  are  all  that  are  subjects 

would  rather  decline  fixing  the  attention  of  the  for  the  pencil,  and  they  are  very  poor  ones, 

public  further  on  my  old  friend  George  Consta-  Earnscliffe  and  Ganderscleuch  are  also  visions, 

ble.    You  know  the  modern  rage  for  publica-  "I  hope  your  work  is  afloat*  and  sailing  bob- 

tion,  and  it  might  serve  some  newsman's  pur-  bishly.     I  have  not  heard  of  or  seen  it. 

pose  by  publishing  something  about  my  old  "Rob  Roy  has  some  good  and  real  subjects, 

friend,  who  was  an  humourist,  which  may  be  as  the  pass  at  Loch  Ard,  the  beautiful  fall  at 

unpleasing  to  his  friends  and  surviving  rela-  Ledeard.  near  the  head  of  the  lake.     Let  me 

tions.  know  all  you  desire  to  be  informed  without 

"I  did  not  think  on  Craignethan  in  writing  fear  of  bothering.      Kindest  compliments  to 

about  Tillietudlem,  and  I  believe  it  differs  in  Mrs.  Skene   and    the  young   folks. —Always 

several  respects  from  my  Chateau  en  Espagne.  yours  entirely,                       WALTER  SCOTT." 
It  is  not  on  the  Clyde  in  particular,  and,  if  I 
recollect,  the  view  is  limited  and  wooded.     But 

tint  can  hp  nn  nhiprlinii  tr>  artnntinff  it  a<i  that  *  Twenty  numb«r«  of  thii  work  were  puMUhed  in  18M 

mat  can  be  no  objection  to  adopting  it  as  tnat  ]g29  ^^  the  mle  of  ,.A  SCT,M  0J  Skelche8  of  the 

Which  pubhc  taste  has  adopted  as  coming  near-  elutinu  Localitie.  alluded  to  In  the  Waverley  Novel*," 
est  to  the  ideal  of  the  place.  Of  the  places  in  etched  from  original  drawing!  by  James  Skeue,  Esq. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  477 

go  with  Adam  Wilson  and  call  upon  a  gentlemanlike  East  Indian  of- 
ficer, called  Colonel  Francklin,  who  appears  an  intelligent  and  re- 
spectable man.  He  writes  the  History  of  Captain  Thomas,1  a  person 
of  the  condition  of  a  common  seaman,  who  raised  himself  to  the  rank 
of  a  native  prince,  and  for  some  time  waged  a  successful  war  with  the 
powers  around  him.  The  work  must  be  entertaining. 

June  25. — Finished  correcting  proofs  for  Tales,  3d  Series.  The 
Court  was  over  soon,  but  I  Avas  much  exhausted.  On  the  return  home 
quite  sleepy  and  past  work.  I  looked  in  on  Cadell,  whose  hand  is  in 
his  housewife's  cap,  driving  and  pushing  to  get  all  the  works  for- 
ward in  due  order,  and  cursing  the  delays  of  artists  and  engravers. 
I  own  I  wish  we  had  not  hampered  ourselves  with  such  causes  of 
delay. 

June  26. — Mr.  Ellis,  missionary  from  the  South  Sea  Islands,  break- 
fasted, introduced  by  Mr.  Fletcher,  minister  of  the  parish  of  Stepney. 

Mr.  Ellis's  account  of  the  progress  of  civilisation,  as  connected 
with  religion,  is  very  interesting.  Knowledge  of  every  kind  is  dif- 
fused— reading,  writing,  printing,  abundantly  common.  Polygamy 
abolished.  Idolatry  is  put  down ;  the  priests,  won  over  by  the  chiefs, 
dividing  among  them  the  consecrated  lands  which  belonged  to  their 
temples.  Great  part  of  the  population  are  still  without  religion,  but 
willing  to  be  instructed.  Wars  are  become  infrequent ;  and  there  is 
in  each  state  a  sort  of  representative  body,  or  senate,  who  are  a  check 
on  the  despotism  of  the  chief.  All  this  has  come  hand  in  hand  with  re- 
ligion. Mr,  Ellis  tells  me  that  the  missionaries  of  different  sects  avoid- 
ed carefully  letting  the  natives  know  that  there  were  points  of  dis- 
union between  them.  Not  so  some  Jesuits  who  had  lately  arrived, 
and  who  taught  their  own  ritual  as  the  only  true  one.  Mr.  Ellis  de- 
scribed their  poetry  to  me,  and  gave  some  examples  ;  it  had  an  Ossi- 
anic  character,  and  was  composed  of  metaphor.  He  gave  me  a  small 
collection  of  hymns  printed  in  the  islands.  If  this  gentleman  is  sin- 
cere, which  I  have  no  doubt  of,  he  is  an  illustrious  character.  He 
was  just  about  to  return  to  the  Friendly  Islands,  having  come  here 
for  his  wife's  health. 

[Blairadam.] — After  the  Court  we  set  off  (the  two  Thomsons  and 
I)  for  Blair  Adam,  where  we  held  our  Macduff  Club  for  the  twelfth 
anniversary.  We  met  the  Chief  Baron,  Lord  Sydney  Osborne,  Will 
Clerk,  the  merry  knight  Sir  Adam  Ferguson,  with  our  venerable  host 
the  Lord  Chief  Commissioner,  and  merry  men  were  we. 

June  27. — I  ought  not,  where  merry  men  convene,  to  omit  our 
jovial  son  of  Neptune,  Admiral  Adam.  The  morning  proving  delight- 
ful, we  set  out  for  the  object  of  the  day,  which  was  Falkland.  We 
passed  through  Lochore,  but  without  stopping,  and  saw  on  the  road 

1  A  copy  of  this  rather  rare  book  is  still  in  terprise  rose  from  an  obscure  situation  to  the 

the  Abbotsford  Library.     Its  title  is  "Colonel  rank  of  General  in  the  service  of  the  Native 

Wm.  Francklin's  Military  Memoirs  of  George  Powers  in  the  N.  W.  of  India."    4to,  Calcutta, 

Thomas,  who  by  extraordinary  talents  and  cu-  1803. 


478  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

eastward,  two  or  three  places,  as  Balbedie,  Strathenrlry,  and  some  oth- 
ers known  to  me  by  name.  Also  we  went  through  the  town  of  Les- 
lie, and  saw  what  remains  of  the  celebrated  rendezvous  of  rustic  gal- 
lantry called  Christ's  Kirk  on  the  Green.1  It  is  now  cut  up  with 
houses,  one  of  the  most  hideous  of  which  is  a  new  church,  having 
the  very  worst  and  most  offensive  kind  of  Venetian  windows.  This, 
I  am  told,  has  replaced  a  quiet  lowly  little  Gothic  building,  coeval,  per- 
haps, with  the  royal  poet  who  celebrated  the  spot.  Next  we  went  to 
Falkland,  where  we  found  Mr.  Howden,  factor  of  Mr.  Tyndall  Bruce, 
waiting  to  show  us  the  palace. 

Falkland  has  most  interesting  remains.  A  double  entrance-tower, 
and  a  side  building  running  east  from  it,  is  roofed,  and  in  some  de- 
gree habitable ;  a  corresponding  building  running  northward  from 
the  eastern  corner  is  totally  ruinous,  having  been  destroyed  by  fire. 
The  architecture  is  highly  ornamented,  in  the  style  of  the  Palace  at 
Stirling.  Niches  with  statues,  with  projections,  cornices,  etc.,  are 
lavished  throughout.  Many  cornice  medallions  exhibited  such  heads 
as  those  procured  from  the  King's  room  at  Stirling,  the  originals, 
perhaps,  being  the  same.  The  repeated  cypher  of  James  v.  and  Mary 
of  Guise  attest  the  builder  of  this  part  of  the  palace.  When  com- 
plete it  had  been  a  quadrangle.  There  is  as  much  of  it  as  remained 
when  Slezer  published  his  drawings.  Some  part  of  the  interior  has 
been  made  what  is  called  habitable,  that  is,  a  half-dozen  of  bad  rooms 
have  been  gotten  out  of  it.  Am  clear  in  my  own  mind  a  ruin  should 
be  protected,  but  never  repaired.  The  proprietor  has  a  beautiful  place 
called  Nuthill,  within  ten  minutes'  walk  of  Falkland,  and  commanding 
some  fine  views  of  it  and  of  the  Lomond  Hill.  This  should  be  the 
residence.  But  Mr.  Bruce  and  his  predecessor,  my  old  professor, 
John  Bruce,8  deserve  great  credit  for  their  attention  to  prevent  dilap- 
idation, which  was  doing  its  work  fast  upon  the  ancient  palace.  The 
only  remarkable  apartment  was  a  large  and  well-proportioned  gallery 
with  a  painted  roof — tempore  Jacobi  Sexti — and  built  after  his  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  England.  I  noticed  a  curious  thing, — a  hol- 
low column  concealed  the  rope  which  rung  the  Castle  bell,  keeping 
it  safe  from  injury  and  interruption. 

The  town  of  Falkland  is  old,  with  very  narrow  streets.  The  ar- 
rival of  two  carriages  and  a  gig  was  an  event  important  enough  to 
turn  out  the  whole  population.  They  are  said  to  be  less  industrious, 
more  dissipated,  and  readier  to  become  soldiers  than  their  neigh- 
bours. So  long  a  court  retains  its  influence  ! 

1  The  poem  of  this  name  is  attributed  to  ment,  which,  though  printed,  were  never  pub- 
King  James  i.  of  Scotland,  but  Dr.  Irving  in  lished ;  among  others,  one  in  1799,  in  2  vols. 
his  History  of  Scottish  Poetry  says  the  earliest  8vo,   "On  the  Union  between   England  and 
edition  known  to  him  dates  only  from  1663.  Scotland:  its  causes,  effects,  and  influence  of 

2  Professor  of  Logic  in  the  University  of  Ed-  Great  Britain  in  Europe."    In  the  previous 
inburgh  from  1775  till  1792,  when  he  resigned  year  he  also  prepared  another  on  the  arrange- 
his  chair  and  became  Keeper  of  the  State  Pa-  ments  made  for  repelling  the  Armada,  and 
per  Office,  and  Historiographer  to  the  East  In-  their  application  to  the  crisis  of  1798.    This  able 
dia  Company  in  London.      He  wrote   several  man  returned  to  Scotland,  and  died  in  Falkland 
elaborate  and  valuable  reports  for  the  Govern-  about  two  years  before  Scott  visited  the  place. 


1829.]  JOURNAL  479 

We  dined  at  Wellfield  with  my  friend  George  Cheape,  with  whom 
I  rode  in  the  cavalry  some  thirty  years  ago.  Much  mirth  and  good 
wine  made  us  return  in  capital  tune.  The  Chief  Baron  and  Admiral 
Adam  did  not  go  on  this  trip.  When  we  returned  it  was  time  to  go 
to  bed  by  a  candle. 

June  28. — Being  Sunday,  we  lounged  about  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  crags  called  Kiery  Craigs,  etc.  The  Sheriff-substitute  of 
Kinross  came  to  dinner,  and  brought  a  gold  signet1  which  had  been 
found  in  that  town.  It  was  very  neat  work,  about  the  size  of  a  shil- 
ling. It  bore  in  a  shield  the  arms  of  Scotland  and  England,  parti 
per  pale,  those  of  Scotland  occupying  the  dexter  side.  The  shield  is 
of  the  heater  or  triangular  shape.  There  is  no  crown  nor  legend  of 
any  kind ;  a  slip  of  gold  folds  upwards  on .  the  back  of  the  hinge, 
and  makes  the  handle  neatly  enough.  It  is  too  well  wrought  for 
David  ii. 's  time,  and  James  iv.  is  the  only  monarch  of  the  Scottish 
line  who,  marrying  a  daughter  of  England,  may  carry  the  arms  of 
both  countries  parti  per  pale.  Mr.  Skelton  is  the  name  of  the  pres- 
ent possessor. 

Two  reported  discoveries.  One,  that  the  blaeberry  shrub  con- 
tains the  tanning  quality  as  four  to  one  compared  to  the  oak — which 
may  be  of  great  importance,  as  it  grows  so  commonly  on  our  moors. 

The  other,  that  the  cutting  of  an  apple-tree,  or  other  fruit-tree, 
may  be  preserved  by  sticking  it  into  a  potato  and  planting  both  to- 
gether. Curious,  if  true. 

June  29  [Edinburgh], — We  dined  together  at  Blair- Adam,  hav- 
ing walked  in  the  woods  in  the  morning,  and  seen  a  beautiful  new 
walk  made  through  the  woody  hill  behind  the  house.  In  a  fine  even- 
ing, after  an  early  dinner,  our  party  returned  to  Edinburgh,  and  there 
each  dispersed  to  his  several  home  and  resting-place.  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  finding  my  family  all  well,  except  Johnnie. 

June  30. — After  my  short  sniff  of  country  air,  here  am  I  again  at 
the  receipt  of  custom.  The  sale  with  Longman  <fe  Co.,  for  stock  and 
copyrights  of  my  [Poetical]  Works,  is  completed,  for  £7000,  at  dates 
from  twelve  to  thirty-six  months.  There  are  many  sets  out  of  which 
we  may  be  able  to  clear  the  money,  and  then  we  shall  make  some- 
thing to  clear  the  copyright.  I  am  sure  this  may  be  done,  and  that 
the  bargain  will  prove  a  good  one  in  the  long  run. 

Dined  at  home  with  my  family,  whom,  as  they  disperse  to-mor- 
row, I  have  dedicated  the  evening  to. 

>  An  account  of  the   finding  of   this  seal      1829,  is  given  in  the  Archceologia  Scotica,  vol. 
(which  was  thought  to  be  that  of  Joan  of      iv.  p.  420. 
Beaufort,  wife  of  James  I.)  at  Kinross,  in  April, 


JULY 

July  1. — This  morning  wrote  letters  and  sent  them  off  by 
Charles.  It  was  Teind  Wednesday,  so  I  was  at  home  to  witness  the 
departure  of  my  family,  which  was  depressing,  My  two  daughters, 
with  the  poor  boy  Johnnie,  went  off  at  ten  o'clock,  my  son  Charles, 
with  my  niece,  about  twelve.  The  house,  filled  with  a  little  bustle 
attendant  on  such  a  removal,  then  became  silent  as  the  grave.  The 
voices  of  the  children,  which  had  lately  been  so  clamorous  with  their 
joyous  shouts,  are  now  hushed  and  still.  A  blank  of  this  kind  is 
somewhat  depressing,  and  I  find  it  impossible  to  resume  my  general 
tone  of  spirits.  A  lethargy  has  crept  on  me  which  no  efforts  can 
dispel ;  and  as  the  day  is  rainy,  I  cannot  take  exercise.  I  have  read 
therefore  the  whole  morning,  and  have  endeavoured  to  collect  ideas 
instead  of  expending  them.  I  have  not  been  very  successful.  In 
short,  diem  perdidi. 

Localities  at  Blair- Adam : — 

Lochornie  and  Lochornie  Moss, 
The  Loutingstane  and  Dodgell's  Cross, 
Craigen  Cat  and  Craigen  Crow, 
Craiggaveral,  the  King's  Cross,  and  Dunglow. 

July  2. — I  made  up  for  my  deficiencies  yesterday,  and  besides  at- 
tending the  Court  wrote  five  close  pages,  which  I  think  is  very  near 
double  task.  I  was  alone  the  whole  day  and  without  interruption. 
I  have  little  doubt  I  will  make  my  solitude  tell  upon  my  labours,  es- 
pecially since  they  promise  to  prove  so  efficient.  I  was  so  languid 
yesterday  that  I  did  not  record  that  J.  Ballantyne,  his  brother  Sandy, 
and  Mr.  Cadell  dined  here  on  a  beef-steak,  and  smoked  a  cigar,  and 
took  a  view  of  our  El  Dorado. 

July  3. — Laboured  at  Court,  where  I  was  kept  late,  and  wrought 
on  my  return  'home,  finishing  about  five  pages.  I  had  the  great 
pleasure  to  learn  that  the  party  with  the  infantry  got  safe  to  Abbots- 
ford. 

July  4. — After  Court  I  came  home  and  set  to  work,  still  on  the 
Tales.  When  I  had  finished  my  bit  of  dinner,  and  was  in  a  quiet 
way  smoking  my  cigar  over  a  glass  of  negus,  Adam  Ferguson  comes 
•with  a  summons  to  attend  him  to  the  Justice-Clerk's,  where,  it  seems, 
I  was  engaged.  I  was  totally  out  of  case  to  attend  his  summons,  red- 
olent as  I  was  of  tobacco.  But  I  am  vexed  at  the  circumstance. 
It  looks  careless,  and,  what  is  worse,  affected ;  and  the  Justice  is  an 


JULY,  1829.]  JOURNAL  481 

old  friend  moreover.1  I  rather  think  I  have  been  guilty  towards  him 
in  this  respect  before.  Devil  take  my  stupidity !  I  will  call  on 
Monday  and  say,  Here  is  my  sabre  and  here  is  my  heart. 

July  5. — Sir  Adam  came  to  breakfast,  and  with  him  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Johnstone  of  Bordeaux,  the  lady  his  cousin.  I  could  not  give  them  a 
right  Scottish  breakfast,  being  on  a  Sunday  morning.  Laboured  on 
the  Tales  the  whole  morning. 

The  post  brought  two  letters  of  unequal  importance.  One  from 
a  person  calling  himself  Haval,  announcing  to  me  the  terrific  circum- 
stance that  he  had  written  against  the  Waverley  Novels  in  a  publi- 
cation called  La  Belle  Assemblee,  at  which  doubtless,  he  supposes, 

I  must  be  much  annoyed.  He  be  d ,  and  that's  plain  speaking. 

The  other  from  Lord  Aberdeen,  announcing  that  Lockhart,  Dr. 
Gooch,  and  myself,  are  invested  with  the  power  of  examining  the 
papers  of  the  Cardinal  Duke  of  York,  and  reporting  what  is  fit  for  pub- 
lication. This  makes  it  plain  that  the  Invisible2  neither  slumbers  nor 
sleeps.  The  toil  and  remuneration  must  be  Lockhart's,  and  to  any 
person  understanding  that  sort  of  work  the  degree  of  trust  reposed 
holds  out  hope  of  advantage.  At  any  rate,  it  is  a  most  honourable 
trust,  and  I  have  written  in  suitable  terms  to  Lord  Aberdeen  to  ex- 
press my  acceptance  of  it,  adverting  to  my  necessary  occupations 
here,  and  expressing  my  willingness  to  visit  London  occasionally  to 
superintend  the  progress  of  the  work.  Treated  myself,  being  con- 
siderably fagged,  with  a  glass  of  poor  Glengarry's  super-excellent 
whisky  and  a  cigar,  made  up  my  Journal,  wrote  to  the  girls,  and  so 
to  roost  upon  a  crust  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  small  beer,  my  usual 
supper. 

July  6. — I  laboured  all  the  morning  without  anything  unusual, 
save  a  call  from  my  cousin,  Mary  Scott  of  Jedburgh,  whom  I  per- 
suaded to  take  part  of  my  chaise  to  Abbotsford  on  Saturday.  At 
two  o'clock  I  walked  to  Cadell's,  and  afterwards  to  a  committee  of  the 
Bannatyne  Club.  Thereafter  I  went  to  Leith,  where  we  had  fixed  a 
meeting  of  The  Club,  now  of  forty-one  years'  standing.3  I  was  in 
the  chair,  and  Sir  Adam  croupier.  We  had  the  Justice-Clerk,  Lord 
Abercromby,  Lord  Pitmilly,  Lord  Advocate,  James  Ferguson,  John 
Irving,  and  William  Clerk,  and  passed  a  merry  day  for  old  fellows. 
It  is  a  curious  thing  that  only  three  have  died  of  this  club  since  its 
formation.  These  were  the  Earl  of  Selkirk ;  James  Clerk,  Lieutenant 
in  the  Navy  ;  and  Archibald  Miller,  W.S.  Sir  Patrick  Murray  was 
an  unwilling  absentee.  There  were  absent — Professor  Davidson  .of 
Glasgow,  besides  Glassford,  who  has  cut  our  society,  and  poor  James 
Edmonstoune,  whose  state  of  health  precludes  his  ever  joining  society 
again.  We  took  a  fair  but  moderate  allowance  of  wine,  sung  our  old 
songs,  and  were  much  refreshed  with  a  hundred  old  stories,  which 

1  Right  Hon.  David  Boyle.  3  For  list  of  the  members  of  The  Club,  which 

8  The  familiar  name  applied  to  Sir  William      was  formed  in  1788,  see  Li/a,  vol.  i.  p.  208. 
Knighton,  sometimes  also  the  Great  Unseen. 
31 


482  JOURNAL  [JULY 

would  have  seemed  insignificant  to  any  stranger.  The  most  impor- 
tant of  these  were  old  college  adventures  of  love  and  battle. 

July  7. — I  was  rather  apprehensive  that  I  might  have  felt  my  un- 
usual dissipation  this  morning,  but  not  a  whit ;  I  rose  as  cool  as  a 
cucumber,  and  set  about  to  my  work  till  breakfast-time.  I  am  to  dine 
with  Ballantyne  to-day.  To-morrow  with  John  Murray.  This  sounds 
sadly  like  idleness,  except  what  may  be  done  either  in  the  morning 
before  breakfast,  or  in  the  broken  portion  of  the  day  between  attend- 
ance on  the  Court  and  my  dinner  meal, — a  vile,  drowsy,  yawning, 
fagged  portion  of  existence,  which  resembles  one's  day,  as  a  portion 
of  the  shirt,  escaping  betwixt  one's  waistcoat  and  breeches,  indicates 
his  linen. 

Dined  with  James  Ballantyne,  who  gave  us  a  very  pleasant  party. 
There  was  a  great  musician,  Mr.  Neukomm,  a  German,  a  pupil  of 
Haydn,  a  sensible,  pleasant  man. 

July  8. — This  morning  I  had  an  ample  dose  of  proofs  and  could 
do  nothing  but  read  them.  The  Court  kept  me  till  two ;  I  was  then 
half  tempted  to  go  to  hear  Mr.  Neukomm  perform  on  the  organ, 
which  is  said  to  be  a  most  masterly  exhibition,  but  I  reflected  how 
much  time  I  should  lose  by  giving  way  to  temptation,  and  how  little 
such  ears  as  mine  would  be  benefited  by  the  exhibition,  and  so  I  re- 
solved to  return  to  my  proofs,  having  not  a  little  to  do.  I  was  so 
unlucky  as  to  meet  my  foreigner  along  with  Mr.  Laine,  the  French 
Consul,  and  his  lady,  who  all  invited  me  to  go  with  them,  but  I 
pleaded  business,  and  was  set  down,  doubtless,  for  a  Goth,  as  I  de- 
served. However,  I  got  my  proofs  settled  before  dinner-time,  and 
began  to  pack  up  books,  etc. 

I  dined  at  John  Murray's,  and  met,  amongst  others,  Mr.  Schutze, 
the  brother-in-law  of  poor  George  Ellis.  We  conversed  about  our 
mutual  friend,  and  about  the  life  Canning  was  to  have  written  about  him, 
and  which  he  would  have  done  con  amore.  He  gave  me  two  instances 
of  poor  George's  neatness  of  expression,  and  acuteness  of  discrimi- 
nation. Having  met,  for  the  first  time,  "  one  Perceval,  a  young  law- 
yer," he  records  him  as  a  person  who,  with  the  advantages  of  life 
and  opportunity,  would  assuredly  rise  to  the  head  of  affairs.  An- 
other gentleman  is  briefly  characterised  as  "  a  man  of  few  words,  and 
fewer  ideas."  Schutze  himself  is  a  clever  man,  with  something  dry 
in  his  manner,  owing,  perhaps,  to  an  imperfection  of  hearing.  Mur- 
ray's parties  are  always  agreeable  and  well  chosen. 

July  9. — I  began  an  immense  arrangement  of  my  papers,  but  was 
obliged  to  desist  by  the  approach  of  four  o'clock.  Having  been  en- 
abled to  shirk  the  Court,  I  had  the  whole  day  to  do  what  I  wished, 
and  as  I  made  some  progress  I  hope  I  will  be  strengthened  to  resume 
the  task  when  at  Abbotsford. 

Heard  of  the  death  of  poor  Bob  Shortreed,1  the  companion  of 

I  Some  little  time  before  his  death,  the  wor-      ed  a  set  of  his  friend's  works,  with  this  inscrip- 
thy  Sheriff- substitute  of  Roxburghshire  receiv-      lion:— "To  Robert  Shortreed,  Esq.,  the  friend 


1829.]  JOURNAL  483 

many  a  long  ride  among  the  hills  in  quest  of  old  ballads.  He  was  a 
merry  companion,  a  good  singer  and  mimic,  and  full  of  Scottish  drol- 
lery. In  his  company,  and  under  his  guidance,  I  was  able  to  see 
much  of  rural  society  in  the  mountains  which  I  could  not  otherwise 
have  attained,  and  which  I  have  made  my  use  of.  He  was,  in  addition, 
a  man  of  worth  and  character.  I  always  burdened  his  hospitality 
while  at  Jedburgh  on  the  Circuit,  and  have  been  useful  to  some  of 
his  family.  Poor  fellow  !  He  died  at  a  most  interesting  period  for 
his  family,  when  his  eldest  daughter  was  about  to  make  an  advantage- 
ous marriage.  So  glide  our  friends  from  us — Haec  poena  diu  viventi- 
bus.  Many  recollections  die  with  him  and  with  poor  Terry.1  I 
dined  with  the  Skenes  in  a  family  way. 

July  10. — Had  a  hard  day's  work  at  the  Court  till  about  two, 
and  then  came  home  to  prepare  for  the  country.  I  made  a  tails  qualis 
arrangement  of  my  papers,  which  I  trust  I  shall  be  able  to  complete 
at  Abbotsford,  for  it  will  do  much  good.  I  wish  I  had  a  smart  boy 
like  Red  Robin  the  tinker.  Wrote  also  a  pack  of  letters. 

Abbotsford,  July  11. — I  was  detained  in  the  Court  till  nearly  one 
o'clock,  then  set  out  and  reached  Abbotsford  in  five  or  six  hours. 
Found  all  well,  and  Johnnie  rather  better.  He  sleeps,  by  virtue  of 
being  in  the  open  air,  a  good  deal. 

July  12. — The  day  excessively  rainy,  or,  as  we  call  it,  soft.  I 
e'en  unpacked  my  books  and  did  a  great  deal  to  put  them  in  order, 
but  I  was  sick  of  the  labour  by  two  o'clock  and  left  several  of  my 
books  and  all  of  my  papers  at  sixes  and  sevens.  Sir  Adam  and  the 
Colonel  dined  with  us.  A  Spanish  gentleman  with  his  wife,  whom  I 
had  seen  at  the  French  Consul's,  also  dropped  in.  He  was  a  hand- 
some, intelligent,  and  sensible  man ;  his  name  I  have  forgot.  We 
had  a  pleasant  evening. 

July  13. — This  day  I  wrote  till  one,  resuming  the  History,  and 
making  out  a  day's  task.  Then  went  to  Chiefswood,  and  had  the 
pleasure  of  a  long  walk  with  a  lady,  well  known  in  the  world  of  poe- 
try, Mrs.  Hemans.  She  is  young  and  pretty,  though  the  mother  of 
five  children,  as  she  tells  me.  There  is  taste  and  spirit  in  her  con- 
versation. My  daughters  are  critical,  and  call  her  blue,  but  I  think 
they  are  hypercritical.  I  will  know  better  when  we  meet  again.  I 
was  home  at  four.  Had  an  evening  walk  with  little  Walter,  who  held 
me  by  the  finger,  gabbling  eternally  much  that  I  did,  and  more  that 
I  did  not,  understand.  Then  I  had  a  long  letter  to  write  to  Lock- 
hart,4  correct  and  read,  and  despatch  proofs,  etc. ;  and  to  bed  hearti- 
ly tired,  though  with  no  great  exertion. 

July  14. — A  rainy  forenoon  broke  the  promise  of  a  delightful 
morning.  I  wrote  four  and  a  half  pages,  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad 

of  the  author  from  youth  to  age,  and  his  guide  their  former  rambles  is  presented  by  his  Bin- 

and  companion  upon  many  an  expedition  among  cere  friend,  Walter  Scott. " — j  o.  L. 
the  Border  hills,  in  quest  of  the  materials  of  .  _,,     .     .  ..    .       4,     00,  T         ,ooft 

legendary  lore  which  have  at  length  filled  so          '  ^bo  had  dled  on  the  22d  June'  1829' 
many  volumes,  this  collection  of  the  results  of          a  Sec  pp.  489,  490  n. 


484  JOURNAL  [JULY 

bargain.  If  I  can  double  the  daily  task,  I  will  be  something  in  hand. 
But  I  am  resolved  to  stick  to  my  three  pages  a  day  at  least.  The 
twelfth  of  August  will  then  complete  my  labours. 

July  15. — This  day  two  very  pretty  and  well-bred  boys  came  over 
to  breakfast  with  us.  I  finished  my  task  of  three  pages  and  better, 
and  went  to  walk  with  the  little  fellows  round  the  farm,  by  the  lake, 
etc.,  etc.  They  were  very  good  companions.  Tom  has  been  busy 
thinning  the  terrace  this  day  or  two,  and  is  to  go  on. 

July  16. — I  made  out  my  task-work  and  betook  myself  to  walk 
about  twelve.  I  feel  the  pen  turn  heavy  after  breakfast ;  perhaps  my 
solemn  morning  meal  is  too  much  for  my  intellectual  powers,  but  I 
won't  abridge  a  single  crumb  for  all  that.  I  eat  very  little  at  dinner, 
and  can't  abide  to  be  confined  in  my  hearty  breakfast.  The  work 
goes  on  as  task-work  must,  slow,  sure,  and  I  trust  not  drowsy,  though 
the  author  is.  I  sent  off  to  Dionysius  Lardner  (Goodness  be  with 
us,  what  a  name !)  as  far  as  page  thirty-eight  inclusive,  but  I  will  wait 
to  add  to-morrow's  quota.  I  had  a  long  walk  with  Tom.1  I  am  walk- 
ing with  more  pleasure  and  comfort  to  myself  than  I  have  done  for 
many  a  day.  May  Heaven  continue  this  great  mercy,  which  I  have 
so  much  reason  to  be  thankful  for ! 

July  17. — We  called  at  Chief swood  and  asked  Captain  Hamilton, 
and  Mrs.  H.,  and  Mrs.  Hemans,  to  dinner  on  Monday.  She  is  a  clever 
person,  and  has  been  pretty.  I  had  a  long  walk  with  her  tete-a-tete. 
She  told  me  of  the  peculiar  melancholy  attached  to  the  words  no 
more.  I  could  not  help  telling,  as  a  different  application  of  the  words, 
how  an  old  dame  riding  home  along  Cockenzie  Sands,  pretty  bowsy, 
fell  off  the  pillion,  and  her  husband,  being  in  good  order  also,  did 
not  miss  her  till  he  came  to  Prestonpans.  He  instantly  returned  with 
some  neighbours,  and  found  the  good  woman  seated  amidst  the  ad- 
vancing tide,  which  began  to  rise,  with  her  lips  ejaculating  to  her 
cummers,  who  she  supposed  were  still  pressing  her  to  another  cup, 

i  Mr.  Skene  in  his  Reminitcences  records  that  Ferguson,  whom  he  seemed  to  take  a  pleasure 

— "Tom  Purdie  identified  himself  with  all  his  in  assailing.     When  Sir  Walter  obtained  the 

master's  pursuits  and  concerns;  he  had  in  early  honour  of  knighthood  for  Sir  Adam,  upon  the 

life  been  a  shepherd,  and  came  into  Sir  Wai-  plea  of  his  being  Custodier  of  the  Regalia  of 

ter's  service  upon  his  first  taking  up  his  abode  Scotland,  Tom  was  very  indignant,  because  he 

at  Ashiestiel,  of  which  he  became  at  last  the  said,  'It  would  tuke  some  of  the  shine  out  of 

farm  manager;  and  upon  the  family  removing  us,'  meaning  Sir  Walter.    Tom  was  very  fond 

to  Abbotsford  continued  that  function,  to  which  of  salmon  fishing,  which  from  an  accordance 

was  added  gamekeeper,  forester,  librarian,  and  of  taste  contributed  much  to  elevate  my  mer- 

henchman  to  his  master  in  all  his  rambles  about  its  in  his  eyes,  and  I  believe  I  was  his  greatest 

the  property.    He  used  to  talk  of  Sir  Walter's  favourite  of  all  Sir  Walter's  friends,  which  he 

publications  as  our  books,  and  said  that  the  used  occasionally  to  testify  by  imparting  to  me 

reading  of  them  was  the  greatest  comfort  to  in  confidence  some  secret  about  fishing,  which 

him,  for  whenever  he  was  off  his  sleep,  which  he  concluded  that  no  one  knew  but  himself, 

sometimes  happened  to  him,  he  had  only  to  He  was  remarkably  fastidious  in  his  care  of 

take  one  of  the  novels,  and  before  he  read  two  the  Library,  arid  it  was  exceedingly  amusing  to 

pages  it  was  sure  to  set  him  asleep.   Tom,  with  see  a  clodhopper  (for  he  was  always  in  the  garb 

the  usual  shrewdness  common  to  his  country-  of  a  ploughman)  moving  about  in  the  splendid 

men  in  that  class  of  life,  joined  a  quaintness  apartment  which  had  been  fitted  up  for  the 

aud  drollery  in  his  notions  and  mode  of  ex-  Library,  scrutinising  the  state  of  the  books, 

pressing  himself  that  was  very  amusing  ;  he  putting  derangement  to  rights,  remonstrating 

was  familiar,  but  at  the  same  time  perfectly  when   he  observed  anything   that    indicated 

respectful,  although  he  was  sometimes  tempt-  carelessness." 
ed  to  deal  sharp  cuts,  particularly  at  Sir  Adam 


1829.]  JOURNAL  485 

"  Nae  ae  drap  mair,  I  thank  you  kindly."  We  dined  in  family,  and 
all  well. 

July  18. — A  Sunday  with  alternate  showers  and  sunshine.  Wrote 
double  task,  which  brings  me  to  page  forty-six  inclusive.  I  read  the 
Spae-wife  of  Gait.  There  is  something  good  in  it,  and  the  language  is 
occasionally  very  forcible,  but  he  has  made  his  story  difficult  to  under- 
stand, by  adopting  a  region  of  history  little  known,  and  having  many 
heroes  of  the  same  name,  whom  it  is  not  easy  to  keep  separate  in 
one's  memory.  Some  of  the  traits  of  the  Spae-wife,  who  conceits 
herself  to  be  a  changeling  or  twin,  are  very  good  indeed.  His  High- 
land Chief  is  a  kind  of  Caliban,  and  speaks,  like  Caliban,  a  jargon 
never  spoken  on  earth,  but  full  of  effect  for  all  that. 

July  19. — I  finished  two  leaves  this  morning,  and  received  the 
Hamiltons  and  Mrs.  Hemans  to  breakfast.  Afterwards  we  drove  to 
Yarrow  and  showed  Mrs.  Hemans  the  lions.  The  party  dined  with 
us,  and  stayed  till  evening.  Of  course  no  more  work. 

July  20. — A  rainy  day,  and  I  am  very  drowsy  and  would  give 
the  world  to  '.I  wrote  four  leaves,  however,  and  then  my  un- 

derstanding dropped  me.  I  have  made  up  for  yesterday's  short  task. 


[NOTE.  —  From  July  20th,  1829,  to  May  23d,  1830,  there  are  no 
entries  in  the  Journal,  but  during  that  time  Sir  Walter  met  with  a 
sad  loss.  He  was  deprived  of  his  humble  friend  and  staunch  hench- 
man, Thomas  Purdie.  The  following  little  note  to  Laidlaw  shows 
how  keenly  he  felt  his  death  :  — 

"  MY  DEAR  WILLIE,  —  I  write  to  tell  you  the  shocking  news  of 
poor  Tom  Purdie's  death,  by  which  I  have  been  greatly  affected.  He 
had  complained,  or  rather  spoken,  of  a  sore  throat;  and  the  day  be- 
fore yesterday,  as  it  came  on  a  shower  of  rain,  I  wanted  him  to  walk 
fast  on  to  Abbotsford  before  me,  but  you  know  well  how  impossible 
that  was.  He  took  some  jelly,  or  trifle  of  that  kind,  but  made  no 
complaint.  This  morning  he  rose  from  bed  as  usual,  and  sat  down 
by  the  table  with  his  head  on  his  hand  ;  and  when  his  daughter  spoke 
to  him,  life  had  passed  away  without  a  sigh  or  groan.  Poor  fellow  ! 
There  is  a  heart  cold  that  loved  me  well,  and,  I  am  sure,  thought  of 
my  interest  more  than  his  own.  I  have  seldom  been  so  much  shocked. 
I  wish  you  would  take  a  ride  down  and  pass  the  night.  There  is 
much  I  have  to  say,  and  this  loss  adds  to  my  wish  to  see  you.  We 
dine  at  four.  The  day  is  indifferent,  but  the  sooner  the  better.  — 
Yours  very  truly, 

"WALTER   SCOTT.8 
"31.s-<  (sic)  October,"  Qy. 


Blank  in  original.  *  Abbotsford  Notanda,  p.  175. 


486  JOURNAL  [JULY,  1829. 

To  Mr.  Cadell,  a  few  days  later,  he  says,  "  I  have  lost  my  old 
and  faithful  servant,  my  factotum,  and  am  so  much  shocked  that  I 
really  wish  to  be  quit  of  the  country.  I  have  this  day  laid  him  in  the 
grave." 

On  coming  to  Edinburgh,  Sir  Walter  found  that  his  old  friend 
and  neighbour  Lady  Jane  Stuart'  was  no  longer  there  to  welcome 
him.  She  also  had  died  somewhat  suddenly  on  October  28th,  and 
was  buried  at  Invermay  on  November  4th. ] 

»  Eldest  daughter  of  David,  sixth  Earl  of      John  Wishart  Belsches  Stuart,  Bart.,  of  Fetter- 
Leveu  and  fifth  of  Melville,  and  widow  of  Sir      cairn.    See  ante,  pp.  2C5,  310,  315. 


1830.— MAY 

May  23,  [Abbotsford\. — About  a  year  ago  I  took  the  pet  at  my 
Diary,  chiefly  because  I  thought  it  made  me  abominably  selfish ;  and 
that  by  recording  my  gloomy  fits  I  encouraged  their  recurrence, 
whereas  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind,  is  the  best  way  to  get  rid  of 
them ;  and  now  I  hardly  know  why  I  take  it  up  again ;  but  here 
goes.  I  came  here  to  attend  Raeburn's  funeral.  I  am  near  of  his 
kin,  my  great-grandfather,  Walter  Scott,  being  the  second  son  or  first 
cadet  of  this  small  family.  My  late  kinsman  was  also  married  to  my 
aunt,  a  most  amiable  old  lady.  He  was  never  kind  to  me,  and  at  last 
utterly  ungracious.  Of  course  I  never  liked  him,  and  we  kept  no 
terms.  He  had  forgot,  though,  an  infantine  cause  of  quarrel,  which 
I  always  remembered.  When  I  was  four  or  five  years  old  I  was  stay- 
ing at  Lessudden  House,  an  old  mansion,  the  abode  of  this  Raeburn. 
A  large  pigeon-house  was  almost  destroyed  with  starlings,  then  a 
common  bird,  though  now  seldom  seen.  They  were  seized  in  their 
nests  and  put  in  a  bag,  and  I  think  drowned,  or  threshed  to  death,  or 
put  to  some  such  end.  The  servants  gave  one  to  me,  which  I  in 
some  degree  tamed,  and  the  brute  of  a  laird  seized  and  wrung  its 
neck.  I  flew  at  his  throat  like  a  wild  cat,  and  was  torn  from  him 
with  no  little  difficulty.  Long  afterwards  I  did  him  the  mortal  of- 
fence to  recall  some  superiority  which  my  father  had  lent  to  the  laird 
to  make  up  a  qualification,  which  he  meant  to  exercise  by  voting  for 
Lord  Minto's  interest  against  poor  Don.  This  made  a  total  breach 
between  two  relations  who  had  never  been  friends,  and  though  I  was 
afterwards  of  considerable  service  to  his  family,  he  kept  his  ill-hu- 
mour, alleging  justly  enough  that  I  did  these  kind  actions  for  the 
sake  of  his  wife  and  family,  not  for  his  benefit.  I  now  saw  him  at 
the  age  of  eighty -two  or  three  deposited  in  the  ancestral  grave. 
Dined  with  my  cousins,  and  returned  to  Abbotsford  about  eight 
o'clock. 

May  24,  \Edinbuv -gh~\. — Called  on  my  neighbour  Nicol  Milne  of 
Faldonside,  to  settle  something  about  the  road  to  Selkirk.  After- 
wards went  to  Huntly  Burn  and  made  my  compliments  to  the  fam- 
ily. Lunched  at  half-past  two  and  drove  to  town,  calling  at  George 
Square  on  Gala.  He  proposed  to  give  up  the  present  road  to  Selkirk 
in  favour  of  another  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  to  be  completed 
by  two  bridges.  This  is  an  object  for  Abbotsford.  In  the  evening 
came  to  town.  Letter  from  Mr.  H[aydon]  soliciting  £20.  Wait  till 
Lockhart  comes. 


488  JOURNAL  [MAY 

May 25. — Got  into  the  old  mill  this  morning,  and  grind  away. 
Walked  in  very  bad  day  to  George  Square  from  the  Parliament  House, 
through  paths  once  familiar,  but  not  trod  for  twenty  years.  Met 
Scott  of  Woll  and  Scott  of  Gala,  and  consulted  about  the  new  road 
between  Galashiels  and  Selkirk.  I  am  in  hopes  to  rid  myself  of  the 
road  to  Selkirk,  which  goes  too  near  me  at  Abbotsford.  Dined  at 
Lord  Chief-Commissioner's,  where  we  met  the  new  Chief  Baron  Aber- 
cromby1  and  his  lady.  I  thought  it  was  the  first  time  we  had  met 
for  above  forty  years,  but  he  put  me  in  mind  we  had  dined  one  day 
at  John  Richardson's. 

May  26. — Wrought  with  proofs,  etc.,  at  the  Demonology,  which  is 
a  cursed  business  to  do  neatly.  I  must  finish  it  though,  for  I  need 
money.  I  went  to  the  Court ;  from  that  came  home,  and  scrambled 
on  with  half  writing,  half  reading,  half  idleness  till  evening.  I  have 
laid  aside  smoking  much  ;  and  now,  unless  tempted  by  company, 
rarely  take  a  cigar.  I  was  frightened  by  a  species  of  fit  which  I  had 
in  February,  which  took  from  me  my  power  of  speaking.  I  am  told 
it  is  from  the  stomach.  It  looked  woundy  like  palsy  or  apoplexy. 
Well,  be  it  what  it  will,  I  can  stand  it.a 

May  27. — Court  as  usual.  I  am  agitating  a  proposed  retirement 
from  the  Court.  As  they  are  only  to  have  four  instead  of  six  Clerks 
of  Session  in  Scotland,  it  will  be  their  interest  to  let  me  retire  on  a 
superannuation.  Probably  I  shall  make  a  bad  bargain,  and  get  only 
two-thirds  of  the  salary,  instead  of  three-fourths.  This  would  be 
hard,  but  I  could  save  between  two  and  three  hundred  pounds  by 
giving  up  town  residence  ;  and  surely  I  could  do  enough  with  my  time 

i  James   Abercromby,    who   succeeded   Sir  want  to  save  money  and  push  forward  work, 

Samuel  Shepherd  as  Chief  Baron,  was  the  third  both  which  motives  urge  me  to  stay  at  home 

son  of  Sir  Ralph  Abercromby.    He  was  after-  this  spring.    On  the  other,  besides  my  great 

wards  elected  member  for  Edinburgh  in  1832,  wish  to  see  you  all,  and  besides  my  desire  to 

and  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  1835.  look  at  the  '  forty-five '  affairs.  I  am  also  desir- 

On  Mr.  Abercromby's  retirement  in  1839,  he  ous  to  put  in  for  my  interest  upon  the  changes 

was  raised  to  the  Peerage  as  Lord  Dunferm-  at  the  Court.  ...  It  must  be  very  much  as 

line.     He  died  at  Colinton  House  on  April  17th,  health  and  weather  shall  determine,  for  if  I 

1858,  aged  81.  see  the  least  chance  of  a  return  of  this  irrita- 

*  Of  this  illness,  Sir  Walter  had  written  the  tion,  my  own  house  will  be  the  only  fit  place 
following  account  to  Mr.  Lockhart,  a  week  after  for  me.  Do  not  suppose  I  am  either  low-spir- 
its occurrence: —  ited  or  frightened  at  the  possibilities  I  calcu- 

"Anne  would  tell  you  of  an  awkward  sort  of  late  upon,  but  there  is  no  harm  in  looking  at 

fit  I  had  on  Monday  last;  it  lasted  about  five  what  may  be  as  what  needs  must  be.     I  really 

minutes,  during  which  I  lost  the  power  of  ar-  believe  the  ugly  symptoms  proceed  from  the 

ticulation,  or  rather  of  speaking  what  I  wished  stomach  particularly.     I  feel,  thank  God,  no 

to  say.     I  revived  instantly,  but  submitted  to  mental  injury,  which  is  most  of  all  to  be  dep- 

be  bled,  and  to  keep  the  house  for  a  week,  ex-  recated.    Still,  I  am  a  good  deal  failed  in  body 

cept  exercising  walks.    They  seem  to  say  it  is  within  these  two  or  three  last  years,  and  the 

from  the  stomach.     It  may  or  may  not  be  a  tingula  praedantur  come  by  degrees  to  make 

paralytic  affection.     We  must  do  the  best  we  up  a  sum.    They  say,  'Do  not  work,'  but  my 

can  in  either  event.     I  think  by  hard  work  I  habits  are  such  that  it  is  not  easily  managed, 

will  have  all  my  affairs  regulated  within  five  for  I  would  be  driven  mad  with  idleness.  .  .  . 

or  six  years,  and  leave  the  means  of  clearing  Adieu.     Love  to  all.     The  odds  are  greatly 

them  iu  case  of  my  death.     I  hope  there  will  against  my  seeing  you  till  you  come  down 

be  enough  for  all,  and  provision  besides  for  my  here,  but  I  will  have  the  cottage  in  such  order 

own  family.     The  present  return  of  the  novels  for  you;  and  as  Will  Laidlaw  comes  back  at 

to  me  is  about  £8000  a  year,  which  moves  fast  Whitsunday,  I  will  have  him  Jo  lend  me  an 

on  to  clear  off  old  scores.  arm  to  Chiefswood,  and  I  have  no  doubt  to  do 

"This  awkward  turn  of  health  makes  my  gallantly, 

motions  very  uncertain.    On  the  one  hand  I  «  ECIKBURQH,  wd  February  [1830]." 


1830.]  JOURNAL  489 

at  reviews  and  other  ways,  so  as  to  make  myself  comfortable  at  Ab- 
botsford.  At  any  rate,  jacta  est  alea  ;  Sir  Robert  Peel  and  the  Ad- 
vocate seem  to  acquiesce  in  the  arrangement,  and  Sir  Robert  Dundas 
retires  alongst  with  me.  I  think  the  difference  will  be  infinite  in 
point  of  health  and  happiness. 

May  28. — Wrought  in  the  morning,  then  the  Court,  then  Cadell's. 
My  affairs  go  on  up  to  calculation,  and  the  Magnum  keeps  its  ground. 
If  this  can  last  for  five  or  six  years  longer  we  may  clear  our  hands 
of  debt;  but  perhaps  I  shall  have  paid  that  of  Nature  before  that 
time  come.  They  will  have  the  books,  and  Cadell  to  manage  them,  who 
is  a  faithful  pilot.  The  poetry  which  we  purchased  for  [£7000],  pay- 
able in  two  years,  is  melting  off  our  hands ;  and  we  will  feed  our 
Magnum  in  that  way  when  we  have  sold  the  present  stock,  by  which 
we  hope  to  pay  the  purchase-money,  and  so  go  on  velvet  with  the 
continuation.  So  my  general  affairs  look  well.  I  expect  Lockhart 
and  Sophia  to  arrive  this  evening  in  the  Roads,  and  breakfast  with 
us  to-morrow.  This  is  very  reviving. 

May  29. — The  Lockharts  were  to  appear  at  nine  o'clock,  but  it  is 
past  four,  and  they  come  not.  There  has  been  easterly  wind,  and  a 
swell  of  the  sea  at  the  mouth  of  the  Firth,  but  nevertheless  I  wish 
they  would  come.  The  machinery  is  liable  to  accidents,  and  they 
may  be  delayed  thus. 

Mr.  Piper,  the  great  contractor  for  the  mail  coaches,  one  of  the 
sharpest  men  in  his  line,  called  here  to-day  to  give  his  consent  to  our 
line  of  road.  He  pays  me  the  compliment  of  saying  he  wishes  my 
views  on  the  subject.  That  is  perhaps  fudge,  but  at  least  I  know 
enough  to  choose  the  line  that  is  most  for  my  own  advantage.  I  have 
written  to  make  Gala  acquainted  that  my  subscription  depends  on 
their  taking  the  Gala  foot  road  ;  no  other  would  suit  me.  After  din- 
ner I  began  to  tease  myself  about  the  children  and  their  parents,  and 
night  went  down  on  our  uncertainty. 

May  30. — Our  travellers  appeared  early  in  the  morning,  cum  tota 
sequela.  Right  happy  were  we  all.  Poor  Johnnie  looks  well.  His 
deformity  is  confirmed,  poor  fellow ;  but  he  may  be  a  clever  lad  for 
all  that.  An  imposthume  in  his  neck  seems  to  be  the  crisis  of  his 
complaint.  He  is  a  gentle,  placid  creature.  Walter  is  remarkably 
handsome,  and  so  is  little  Whippety  Stourie,1  as  I  call  her.  After 
breakfast  I  had  a  chat  with  Lockhart  about  affairs  in  general,  which, 
as  far  as  our  little  interests  are  concerned,  are  doing  very  well. 
Lockhart  is  now  established  in  his  reputation  and  literary  prospects.* 
I  wrote  some  more  in  his  Demonology,  which  is  a  scrape,  I  think. 

1  His  grand  -  daughter,  Charlotte,  whom  he  "Your  letter,  this  day  received,  namely  Wed- 
playfully  named  after  the  fairy  in  the  old  Scot-  nesday,  gave  me  the  greatest  pleasure  on  ac- 
tish  Nursery  story.  count  of  the  prosperous  intelligence  which  it 

8  Mr.  Lockhart  had  some  thoughts  of  enter-  gives  me  of  your  own  advancing  prospects.  .  .  . 

ing  Parliament,  at  this  time,  and  Sir  Walter  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  looked  to 

had  expressed  his  opinion  a  few  days  before  the  income  of  future  years  before  thinking  of 

their  meeting: —  disposing  of  the  profits  of  a  successful  one  in  a 


490 


JOURNAL 


[MAY,  1830. 


May  31. — Set  to  work  early,  and  did  a  good  day's  work  without 
much  puffing  and  blowing.  Had  Lockhart  at  dinner,  and  a  tete-a- 
tete  over  our  cigar.  He  has  got  the  right  ideas  for  getting  to  the 
very  head  of  the  literary  world  and  now  stands  very  high  as  well  for 
taste  and  judgment  as  for  genius.  I  think  there  is  no  fear  now  of 
his  letting  a  love  of  fun  run  away  with  him.  At  home  the  whole  day, 
except  a  walk  to  Cadell's,  who  is  enlarging  his  sale.  As  he  comes 
upon  heavy  months,  and  is  come  now  to  the  Abbot,  the  Monastery,  and 
the  less  profitable  or  popular  of  the  novels,  this  is  a  fortunate  circum- 
stance. The  management  seems  very  judicious. 


manner  which  cannot  be  supposed  to  produce 
positive  or  direct  advantage,  but  may  rather 
argue  some  additional  degree  of  expense. 

"  But  this  being  premeesed,  I  cannot  help 
highly  approving  of  your  going  into  Parlia- 
ment, especially  as  a  member  entirely  unfet- 
tered and  left  to  act  according  to  the  weal  of 
the  public,  or  what  you  conceive  such.  It  is 
the  broad  turnpike  to  importance  and  conse- 
quence which  you,  as  a  man  of  talents  in  the 
full  vigour  of  youth,  ought  naturally  to  be  am- 
bitious of.  The  present  times  threaten  to  bring 
in  many  occasions  when  there  will  and  must 
be  opportunities  of  a  man  distinguishing  him- 
self and  serving  his  country. 

"To  go  into   the  House  without  speaking 


would  be  useless.  I  will  frankly  tell  you  that 
when  I  heard  you  speak  you  seemed  always 
sufficiently  up  to  the  occasion  both  in  words 
and  matter,  but  too  indifferent  in  the  manner 
in  which  you  pressed  your  argument,  and  there- 
fore far  less  likely  to'attract  attention  than  if 
you  had  seemed  more  earnestly  persuaded  ol 
the  truth  and  importance  of  what  you  have 
been  saying.  I  think  you  may  gain  advantage 
from  taking  this  hint.  No  one  is  disposed  to 
weigh  any  man's  arguments  more  favourably 
than  he  himself  does,  and  if  you  are  not  con- 
sidered as  gravely  interested  in  what  you  say, 
and  conscious  of  its  importance,  your  audience 
will  not  be  so.  ... 

"  EDINBUBQH,  20(A  May,  1830." 


JUNE 

June  1. — Proofs  and  Court,  the  inevitable  employment  of  the  day. 
Louisa  Kerr  dined  with  us,  and  Williams  looked  in.  We  talked  a 
good  deal  on  Celtic  witchery  and  fairy  lore.  I  was  glad  to  renew  my 
acquaintance  with  this  able  and  learned  man. 

June  2. — The  Lockharts  left  us  again  this  morning,  and  although 
three  masons  are  clanking  at  their  work  to  clear  a  well,  the  noise  is 
mitigated,  now  the  poor  babies'  clang  of  tongues  is  removed.  I  set 
myself  to  write,  determining  to  avoid  reasoning,  and  to  bring  in  as 
many  stories  as  possible.  Being  a  Teind  Wednesday,  I  may  work 
undisturbed,  and  I  will  try  to  get  so  far  ahead  as  may  permit  a  jour- 
ney to  Abbotsford  on  Saturday.  At  nine  o'clock  was  as  far  ahead  as 
page  57.  It  runs  out  well,  and  150  pages  will  do. 

June  3. — Finished  my  proofs,  and  sent  them  off  with  copy.  I  saw 
Mr.  Dickinson1  on  Tuesday :  a  right  plain  sensible  man.  He  is  so 
confident  in  my  matters,  that,  being  a  large  creditor  himself,  he  offers 
to  come  down,  with  the  support  of  all  the  London  creditors,  to  carry 
through  any  measure  that  can  be  devised  for  my  behoof.  Mr.  Cadell 
showed  him  that  we  are  four  years  forward  in  matter  prepared  for  the 
press.  Got  Heath's  illustrations,  which,  I  dare  say,  are  finely  engraved, 
but  commonplace  enough  in  point  of  art. 

June  4.— Court  as  usual,  and  not  long  detained.  Visited  Cadell. 
All  right,  and  his  reports  favourable,  it  being  the  launch  of  our  annual 
volume,  now  traversing  a  year,  with  unblemished  reputation  and  suc- 
cess uninterrupted.  I  should  have  said  I  overhauled  proofs  and  fur- 
nished copy  in  the  morning  between  seven  and  ten  o'clock. 

After  coming  from  the  Court  I  met  Woll  and  Gala,  and  agreed 
upon  the  measures  to  be  attempted  at  Selkirk  on  the  eighth  at  the 
meeting  of  trustees.  In  the  evening  smoked  an  extra  cigar  (none 
since  Tuesday),  and  dedicated  the  rest  to  putting  up  papers,  etc.,  for 
Abbotsford.  Anne  wants  me  to  go  to  hear  the  Tyrolese  Minstrels, 
but  though  no  one  more  esteems  that  bold  and  high-spirited  people,  I 
cannot  but  think  their  yodelling,  if  this  be  the  word,  is  a  variation,  or 
set  of  variations,  upon  the  tones  of  a  jackass,  so  I  remain  to  dribble 
and  scribble  at  home. 

June  5. — I  rose  at  seven  as  usual,  and,  to  say  truth,  dawdled  away 
my  time  in  putting  things  to  rights,  which  is  a  vile  amusement,  and 
writing  letters  to  people  who  write  to  ask  my  opinion  of  their  books, 

1  Mr.  John  Dickinson  of  Nash  Mill,  Herts,  the  eminent  paper-maker. — i.  a.  i»  Ante,  p.  294. 


492  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

which  is  as  much  as  to  say — "  Tom,  come  tickle  me."  This  is  worse 
than  the  other  pastime,  but  either  may  serve  for  a  broken  day,  and 
both  must  be  done  sometimes. 

\AbbotsfordJ\ — After  the  Court,  started  for  Abbotsford  at  half-past 
twelve  at  noon,  and  here  we  are  at  half-past  five  impransi.  The  coun- 
try looks  beautiful,  though  the  foliage,  larches  in  particular,  have  had 
a  blight.  Yet  they  can  hardly  be  said  to  lose  foliage  since  they  have 
but  a  sort  of  brushes  at  best. 

June  6. — Went  through  a  good  deal  of  duty  as  to  proofs,  and  the 
like.  At  two  set  out  and  reached  by  four  Chiefs  wood,  where  I  had 
the  happiness  to  find  the  Lockharts  all  in  high  spirits,  well  and  happy. 
Johnnie  must  be  all  his  life  a  weakly  child,  but  he  may  have  good 
health,  and  possesses  an  admirable  temper.  We  dined  with  the  Lock- 
harts,  and  were  all  very  happy. 

June  7. — Same  duty  carefully  performed.  I  continued  working 
till  about  one,  when  Lockhart  came  to  walk.  We  took  our  course 
round  by  the  Lake.  I  was  a  good  deal  fagged,  and  must  have  tired 
my  companion  by  walking  slow.  The  Fergusons  came  over  —  Sir 
Adam  in  all  his  glory — and  "the  night  drave  on  wi'  sangs  and  clatter." ' 

June  8. — Had  not  time  to  do  more  than  correct  a  sheet  or  two. 
About  eleven  set  off  for  Selkirk,  where  there  was  a  considerable  meet- 
ing of  road  trustees.  The  consideration  of  the  new  road  was  intrust- 
ed to  a  committee  which  in  some  measure  blinks  the  question ;  yet  I 
think  it  must  do  in  the  end.  I  dined  with  the  Club,  young  Chesters 
president.  It  is  but  bad  fun,  but  I  might  be  father  of  most  of  them, 
and  must  have  patience.  At  length 

"Hame  cam  our  gudeman  at  e'en, 
And  hame  cam  he."* 

June  9. — In  the  morning  I  advised  Sheriff  Court  processes,  car- 
ried on  the  Demonology  till  twelve,  then  put  books,  etc.,  in  some  or- 
der to  leave  behind  me.  Will  it  be  ordered  that  I  come  back  not  like 
a  stranger,  or  sojourner,  but  to  inhabit  here  ?  I  do  not  know ;  I  shall 
be  happy  either  way.  It  is  perhaps  a  violent  change  in  the  end  of 
life  to  quit  the  walk  one  has  trod  so  long,  and  the  cursed  splenetic 
temper,  which  besets  all  men,  makes  you  value  opportunities  and  cir- 
cumstances when  one  enjoys  them  no  longer.  Well !  things  must  be 
as  they  may,  as  says  that  great  philosopher  Corporal  Nym.* 

[Edinburgh.] — I  had  my  walk,  and  on  my  return  found  the  Lock- 
harts  come  to  take  luncheon,  and  leave  of  us.  Reached  Edinburgh  at 
nine  o'clock.  Found,  among  less  interesting  letters,  two  from  Lord 
Northampton  on  the  death  of  the  poor  Marchioness,4  and  from  Anna 
Jane  Clephane  on  the  same  melancholy  topic.  Hei  mihi  ! 

June  10. — Corrected  proofs,  prepared  some  copy,  and  did  all  that 

»  Burns's  Tarn  o'  Shanler.  3  Henry  V.,  Act  n.  Sc.  1. 

11  See  Johnson's  Musical  Muteum  Illustra-          4  Daughter  of  his  old  friend,  Mrs.  Maclean 
tions,  Pt.  v.  No.  454.  Clephane  of  Torloisk. 


1830.]  JOURNAL  493 

was  right.  Dined  and  wrought  in  the  evening,  yet  I  did  not  make 
much  way  after  all. 

June  11. — In  the  morning,  the  usual  labour  of  two  hours.  God 
bless  that  habit  of  being  up  at  seven !  I  could  do  nothing  without 
it,  but  it  keeps  me  up  to  the  scratch,  as  they  say.  I  had  a  letter  this 
morning  with  deep  mourning  paper  and  seal ;  the  mention  of  my 
nephew  in  the  first  line  made  me  sick,  fearing  it  had  related  to  Wal- 
ter. It  was  from  poor  Sir  Thomas  Bradford,  who  has  lost  his  lady, 
but  was  indeed  an  account  of  Walter,1  and  a  good  one. 

June  12. — A  day  of  general  labour  and  much  weariness. 

June  13. — The  same  may  be  said  of  this  day. 

June  14. — And  of  this,  only  I  went  out  for  an  hour  and  a  half  to 
Mr.  Colvin  Smith,  to  conclude  a  picture  for  Lord  Gillies.  This  is  a 
sad  relief  from  labour. 

"...  Sedet  seternumque  sedebit 
Infelix  Theseus."8 

But  Lord  Gillies  has  been  so  kind  and  civil  that  I  must  have  his  pict- 
ure as  like  as  possible. 

June  15. — I  had  at  breakfast  the  son  of  Mr.  Fellenburg3  of  Hof- 
wyll,  Switzerland,  a  modest  young  man.  I  used  to  think  his  father 
something  of  a  quack,  in  proposing  to  discover  how  a  boy's  natural 
genius  lies,  with  a  view  to  his  education.  How  would  they  have  made 
me  a  scholar,  is  a  curious  question.  Whatever  was  forced  on  me  as 
a  task  I  should  have  detested.  There  was  also  a  gentlemanlike  little 

man,  the  Chevalier  de  ,  silent,  and  speaks  no  English.  Poor 

George  Scott,  Harden,  is  dead  of  the  typhus  fever.  Poor  dear  boy ! 
I  am  sorry  for  him,  and  yet  more  for  his  parents.  I  have  a  letter 
from  Henry  on  the  subject. 

June  16. — I  wrote  this  forenoon  till  I  completed  the  100  pages, 
which  is  well  done.  I  had  a  call  from  Colin  Mackenzie,  whom  I  had 
not  seen  for  nearly  two  years.  He  has  not  been  so  well,  and  looks 
ghastly,  but  I  think  not  worse  than  I  have  seen  him  of  late  years. 
\Ve  are  very  old  acquaintances.  1  remember  he  was  one  of  a  small 
party  at  college,  that  formed  ourselves  into  a  club  called  the  Poetical 
Society.  The  other  members  were  Charles  Kerr  of  Abbotrule  (a  sin- 
gular being),  Colin  M'Laurin  (insane),  Colin,  and  I,  who  have  luckily 
kept  our  wits.  I  also  saw  this  morning  a  Mr.  Low,  a  youth  of  great 
learning,  who  has  written  a  good  deal  on  the  early  history  of  Scot- 
land.4 He  is  a  good-looking,  frank,  gentlemanlike  lad ;  with  these 
good  gifts  only  a  parish  schoolmaster  in  Aberdeenshire.  Having  won 
a  fair  holiday  I  go  to  see  Miss  Kemble  for  the  first  time.  It  is  two 
or  three  years  since  I  have  been  in  a  theatre,  once  my  delight. 

1  "Little  Walter."  Thomas  Scott's  son,  who          3  Emanuel  de  Fellenburg,  who  died  in  1844. 
went  to  India  in  1826,  anlr,  p.  6:5.     He  became          4  "  The  History  of  Scotland  from  the  Earliest 

a  General  in  the  Indian  Army,  and  died  in  Period  to  the  Middle  of  the  Ninth  Century," 

1873.  by  the  Rev.  Alex.  Low.     8vo,  Edinburgh,  1826. 

a  jJZneid  vi.  617.  — See  Misc.  Prose  Works,  vol.  xx.  pp.  374-6. 


494  JOURNAL  [JUNE 

June  17. — Went  last  night  to  theatre,  and  saw  Miss  Fanny  Kem- 
ble's  Isabella,1  which  was  a  most  creditable  performance.  It  has 
much  of  the  genius  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  her  aunt.  She  wants  her  beau- 
tiful countenance,  her  fine  form,  and  her  matchless  dignity  of  step 
and  manner.  On  the  other  hand,  Miss  Fanny  Kemble  has  very  ex- 
pressive, though  not  regular,  features,  and  what  is  worth  it  all,  great 
energy  mingled  with  and  chastened  by  correct  taste.  I  suffered  by 
the  heat,  lights,  and  exertion,  and  will  not  go  back  to-night,  for  it  has 
purchased  me  a  sore  headache  this  theatrical  excursion.  Besides, 
the  play  is  Mrs.  Beverley,1  and  I  hate  to  be  made  miserable  about  do- 
mestic distress,  so  I  keep  my  gracious  presence  at  home  to-night, 
though  I  love  and  respect  Miss  Kemble  for  giving  her  active  support 
to  her  father  in  his  need,  and  preventing  Covent  Garden  from  coming 
down  about  their  ears.  I  corrected  proofs  before  breakfast,  attended 
Court,  but  was  idle  in  the  forenoon,  the  headache  annoying  me  much. 
Dinner  will  make  me  better.  And  so  it  did.  I  wrote  in  the  evening 
three  pages,  and  tolerably  well,  though  I  may  say  with  the  Emperor 
Titus  (not  Titus  Oates)  that  I  have  lost  a  day. 

June  18,  [Blair- Adani\. — Young  John  Colquhoun  of  Killermont 
and  his  wife  breakfasted  with  us, — a  neat  custom  that,  and  saves  wine 
and  wassail.  Then  to  Court,  and  arranged  for  our  departure  for 
Blair-Adam,  it  being  near  midsummer  when  the  club  meets.  Anne 
with  me,  and  Sir  Adam  Ferguson.  The  day  was  execrable.  Our 
meeting  at  Blair- Adam  was  cordial,  but  our  numbers  diminished ;  the 
good  and  very  clever  Lord  Chief-Baron3  is  returned  to  his  own  coun- 
try, with  more  regrets  than  in  Scotland  usually  attend  a  stranger. 
Will  Clerk  has  a  bad  cold,  [Thomas]  Thomson  is  detained,  but  the 
Chief  Commissioner,  Admiral  Adam,  Sir  Adam,  John  Thomson  and 
I,  make  an  excellent  concert.  I  only  hope  our  venerable  host  will  not 
fatigue  himself.  To-morrow  we  go  to  Culross,  which  Sir  Robert  Pres- 
ton is  repairing,  and  the  wise  are  asking  for  whose  future  enjoy- 
ment. He  is  upwards  of  ninety,  but  still  may  enjoy  the  bustle  of 
life. 

June  19. — Arose  and  expected  to  work  a  little,  but  a  friend's 
house  is  not  favourable ;  you  are  sure  to  want  the  book  you  have  not 
brought,  and  are  in  short  out  of  sorts,  like  the  minister  who  could 
not  preach  out  of  his  own  pulpit.  There  is  something  fanciful  in 
this,  and  something  real  too,  and  I  have  forgot  my  watch  and  left  half 
my  glasses  at  home. 

Off  we  set  at  half-past  eight  o'clock,  Lord  Chief -Commissioner  be- 
ing left  at  home  owing  to  a  cold.  We  breakfasted  at  Luscar,  a  place 
belonging  to  Adam  Rolland,  but  the  gout  had  arrested  him  at  Edin- 
burgh, so  we  were  hospitably  received  by  his  family.  The  weather 
most  unpropitious,  very  cold  and  rainy.  After  breakfast  to  Culross, 


>  Southerne's  Fatal  Marriage.  3  Sir  Samuel  Shepherd. —See  ante,  p.  31  n. 

*  In  the  Gfamester  by  Moore. 


1830.]  JOURNAL  495 

where  the  veteran,  Sir  Robert  Preston1  showed  us  his  curiosities.  Life 
has  done  as  much  for  him  as  most  people.  In  his  ninety-second  year 
he  has  an  ample  fortune,  a  sound  understanding,  not  the  least  decay 
of  eyes,  ears,  or  taste  ;  is  as  big  as  two  men,  and  eats  like  three.  Yet 
he  too  experiences  the  singula  prcedantur  anni,  and  has  lost  some- 
thing since  I  last  saw  him.  If  his  appearance  renders  old  age  toler- 
able, it  does  not  make  it  desirable.  But  I  fear  when  death  comes  we 
shall  be  unwilling  for  all  that  to  part  with  our  bundle  of  sticks.  Sir 
Robert  amuses  himself  with  repairing  the  old  House  of  Culross,  built 
by  the  Lord  Bruce  of  Kinloss.  To  what  use  it  is  destined  is  not  very 
evident  to  me.  It  is  too  near  his  own  comfortable  mansion  of  Val- 
leyfield  to  be  useful  as  a  residence,  if  indeed  it  could  be  formed  into 
a  comfortable  modern  house.  But  it  is  rather  like  a  banqueting 
house.  Well,  he  follows  his  own  fancy.  We  had  a  sumptuous  cold 
dinner.  Adam  grieves  it  was  not  hot,  so  little  can  war  and  want 
break  a  man  to  circumstances.  WTe  returned  to  Blair-Adam  in  the 
evening,  through  "  the  wind  but  and  the  rain."  For  June  weather  it  is 
the  most  ungenial  I  have  seen.  The  beauty  of  Culross  consists  in 
magnificent  terraces  rising  on  the  sea-beach,  and  commanding  the 
opposite  shore  of  Lothian  ;  the  house  is  repairing  in  the  style  of  James 
the  Sixth.  The  windows  have  pediments  like  Heriot's  Work.2  There 
are  some  fine  relics  of  the  old  Monastery,  with  large  Saxon  arches. 
At  Luscar  I  saw  with  pleasure  the  painting  by  Raeburn,  of  my  old 
friend  Adam  Rolland,  Esq.,3  who  was  in  the  external  circumstances, 
but  not  in  frolic  or  fancy,  my  prototype  for  Paul  Pleydell.* 

June  20. — We  settled  this  morning  to  go  to  church  at  Lochore, 
that  is,  at  Ballingray ;  but  when  we  came  to  the  earthly  paradise  so 
called,  we  were  let  off  for  there  was  no  sermon,  for  which  I  could  not 
in  my  heart  be  sorry.  So,  after  looking  at  Lochore,  back  we  came  to 
lounge  and  loiter  about  till  dinner-time.  The  rest  of  the  day  was 
good  company,  good  cheer,  and  good  conversation.  Yet  to  be  idle 
here  is  not  the  thing,  and  to  be  busy  is  impossible,  so  I  wish  myself 
home  again  in  spite  of  good  entertainment.  We  leave  to-night  after 
an  early  dinner,  and  I  will  get  to  work  again. 

June  21,  [Edinburgh], — Wrote  to  Walter  a  long  letter.  The  day 
continued  dropping  occasionally,  but  Sir  Adam  was  in  high  fooling, 
and  we  had  an  amazing  deal  of  laughing.  We  stole  a  look  at  the 
Kiery  Craigs  between  showers.  In  the  meantime  George  Cheape  and 
his  son  came  in.  We  dined  at  half-past  three,  but  it  was  seven  ere 
we  set  off,  and  did  not  reach  the  house  in  Shandwick  Place  till  eleven 
at  night.  Thus  ended  our  Club  for  the  year  1830,  its  thirteenth  an- 

1  Sir  Robert  Preston,  Bart. ,  died  in  May,  1834,          4  The  "  frolic  and  fancy  "  of  Councillor  Pley- 
aged  ninety  five.— j.  G.  L.  dell  were  commonly  supposed  to  have  been 

2  Hnriofs  Hnsnital   Fdinhnrrrh  found    in   Andrew  Crosbie,   Advocate,   but  as 

lospital,  Edinburgh.  Crosbie  died  when  Scott  was  only  fourteen, 

3  See  ante,  p.  460  note,  and  for  sketch  01  and  had  retired  from  the  bar  for  some  years, 
Adam  Rolland  of  Cask,  Cockburn's  Memorials,  the  latter  could  scarcely  have  known  him  per- 
pp.  360-3.  sonally.    See  p.  460  n. 


496  JOURNAL  [JUNK 

niversary.  Its  numbers  were  dimirftshed  by  absence  and  indisposi- 
tion, but  its  spirit  was  unabated. 

June  22. — Finished  proofs  and  some  copy  in  the  morning.  Re- 
turned at  noon,  and  might  have  laboured  a  good  day's  work,  but  was 
dull,  drowsy,  and  indolent,  and  could  not,  at  least  did  not,  write  above 
half  a  page.  It  was  a  day  lost,  and  indeed  it  is  always  with  me  the 
consequence  of  mental  indolence  for  a  day  or  two,  so  I  had  a  suc- 
cession of  eating  and  dozing,  which  I  am  ashamed  of,  for  there  was 
nothing  to  hinder  me  but "  thick-coming  fancies."  Pshaw,  rabbit  un  ! 

June  23. — Worked  well  this  morning,  and  then  to  Court.  At  two 
called  on  Mr.  Gibson,  and  find  him  disposed  for  an  instalment.  Cadcll 
has  £10,000,  and  Gibson  thinks  £12,000  will  pay  2s.  6d.  I  wish  it 
could  be  made  three  shillings,  which  would  be  £15,000. 

Presided  at  a  meeting  of  the  Bannatyne  Club.  The  Whigs  made 
a  strong  party  to  admit  Kennedy  of  Dunurc,  which  set  aside  Lord 
Medwyn,  who  had  been  longer  on  the  roll  of  candidates.  If  politics 
get  into  this  Club  it  will  ruin  the  literary  purpose  of  the  meeting, 
and  the  general  good-humour  with  which  it  has  gone  on.  I  think  it 
better  to  take  the  thing  good-humouredly,  and  several  of  them  volun- 
teered to  say  that  Medwyn  must  be  the  next,  which  will  finish  all  a 
Vaimable.  If  it  come  to  party-work  I  will  cut  and  run.  Confound  it ! 
my  eyes  are  closing  now,  even  now,  at  half-past  four. 

Dined  with  Lord  Medwyn,  a  pleasant  party.  The  guest  of  impor- 
tance, Mrs.  Peter  Latouche  from  Dublin,  a  fine  old  dame,  who  must 
have  been  beautiful  when  young,  being  pleasant  and  comely  at  seven- 
ty,— saintly  it  appears. 

June  24. — Hard  work  with  Ballantyne's  proofs  and  revises,  but 
got  them  accomplished.  I  am  at  the  twelfth  hour,  but  I  think  I  shall 
finish  this  silly  book  before  the  tenth  of  July. 

Notwithstanding  this  sage  resolution  I  did  not  write  half  a  page 
of  the  said  Demonology  this  day.  I  went  to  the  Court,  called  on  Mr. 
Cadell,  returned  dog-tired,  and  trifled  my  time  with  reading  the  trial 
of  Corder.  What  seemed  most  singular  was  his  love  to  talk  of  the 
young  woman  he  had  murdered,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  insinuate  the 
circumstances  of  his  own  crime,  which  is  a  kind  of  necessity  which 
seems  to  haunt  conscience-struck  men.  Charles  Sharpe  came  in  at 
night  and  supped  with  us. 

June  25. — Slept  little  later  than  I  should.  The  proofs  occupied 
the  morning.  The  Court  and  walk  home  detained  me  till  two.  When 
I  returned,  set  to  work  and  reached  page  210  of  copy.  There  is  lit- 
tle or  nothing  else  to  say.  Skene  was  with  me  for  a  few  minutes.  I 
called  at  CadelPs  also,  who  thinks  a  dividend  of  3s.  per  pound  will  be 
made  out.1  This  will  be  one-half  of  the  whole  debts,  and  leave  a 
sinking  fund  for  the  rest  about  £10,000  a  year  "  if  the  beast  live  and 
the  branks  bide  hale.'"1 

1  A  second  dividend  of  3s.  was  declared  on          a  An  old  Galloway  proverb.   Rrankts,  "a  sort 
December  17, 1830.  of  bridle  used  by  country  people  in  riding."- 


1830.]  JOURNAL  497 

June  26. — Miss  Kemble  and  her  father  breakfasted  here,  with  Sir 
Adam  and  Lady  Ferguson.  I  like  the  young  lady  very  much,  re- 
specting both  her  talents  and  the  use  she  has  made  of  them.  She 
seems  merry,  unaffected,  and  good-humoured.  She  said  she  did  not 
like  the  apathy  of  the  Scottish  audiences,  who  are  certain  not  to  give 
applause  upon  credit.  I  went  to  the  Court,  but  soon  returned ;  a 
bad  cold  in  my  head  makes  me  cough  and  sneeze  like  the  Dragon  of 
Wantley.  The  Advocates'  Bill1  is  read  a  third  time.  I  hardly  know 
whether  to  wish  it  passed  or  no,  and  am  therefore  in  utrumque  pa- 
ra tus. 

June  27. — In  the  morning  worked  as  usual  at  proofs  and  copy  of 
my  infernal  Demonoloyy — a  task  to  which  my  poverty  and  not  my 
will  consents.  About  twelve  o'clock  I  went  to  the  country  to  take  a 
day's  relaxation.  We  (i.e.  Mr.  Cadell,  James  Ballantyne,  and  1)  went 
to  Prestonpans,  and,  getting  there  about  one,  surveyed  the  little  vil- 
lage, where  my  aunt  and  I  were  lodgers  for  the  sake  of  sea-bathing 
in  1778, 1  believe.  I  knew  the  house  of  Mr.  Warroch,  where  we  lived, 
— a  poor  cottage,  of  which  the  owners  and  their  family  are  extinct. 
I  recollected  my  juvenile  ideas  of  dignity  attendant  on  the  large  gate, 
a  black  arch  which  lets  out  upon  the  sea.  I  saw  the  church  where  I 
yawned  under  the  inflictions  of  a  Dr.  M'Cormick,  a  name  in  which 
dulness  seems  to  have  been  hereditary.  I  saw  the  Links  where  I  ar- 
ranged my  shells  upon  the  turf,  and  swam  my  little  skiffs  in  the  pools. 
Many  comparisons  between  the  man,  and  the  recollections  of  my  kind 
aunt,  of  old  George  Constable,  who,  I  think,  dangled  after  her  ;  of 
Dalgetty,  a  veteran  half-pay  lieutenant,  who  swaggered  his  solitary 
walk  on  the  parade,  as  he  called  a  little  open  space  before  the  same 
pool.  We  went  to  Preston,  and  took  refuge  from  a  thunder-plump 
in  the  old  tower.  I  remembered  the  little  garden  where  I  was 
crammed  with  gooseberries,  and  the  fear  I  had  of  Blind  Harry's 
spectre  of  Fawdon  showing  his  headless  trunk  at  one  of  the  windows. 
I  remembered  also  a  very  good-natured  pretty  girl  (my  Mary  Duff), 
whom  I  laughed  and  romped  with  and  loved  as  children  love.  She 
was  a  Miss  Dalrymple,  daughter  of  Lord  Westhall,2  a  Lord  of  Session  ; 
was  afterwards  married  to  Anderson  of  Winterfield,  and  her  daugh- 
ter is  now  [the  spouse]  of  my  colleague  Robert  Hamilton.  So  strange- 
ly are  our  cards  shuffled.  I  was  a  mere  child,  and  could  feel  none 
of  the  passion  which  Byron  alleges,  yet  the  recollection  of  this  good- 
humoured  companion  of  my  childhood  is  like  that  of  a  morning 
dream,  nor  should  I  now  greatly  like  to  dispel  it  by  seeing  the  orig- 
inal, who  must  now  be  sufficiently  time-honoured. 

Well,  we  walked  over  the  field  of  battle,  saw  the  Prince's  Park, 
Cope's  Loan,  marked  by  slaughter  in  his  disastrous  retreat,  the  thorn- 

Jamieson.     Burns  in  a  Scotch  letter  to  Nicol          !  Relating  to  the  changes  in  the  Court  of 
of  June  1. 1787,  says,  "  I'll  be  in  Dumfries  the      Session. 

morn  gif  the  beast  he  to  the   fore  and   the          2  David  Dalrymple  of  Westhall  was  a  judge 
branks  bide  hale."— Cromek's  Reliques,  p.  29.        of  the  Court  of  Session  from  1777  till  bis  death 

in  1784. 

32 


498  JOURNAL  [JUNE,  1830. 

tree  which  marks  the  centre  of  the  battle,  and  all  besides  that  was  to 
be  seen  or  supposed.  .  We  saw  two  broadswords,  found  on  the  field 
of  battle,  one  a  Highlander's,  an  Andrew  Ferrara,  another  the  dra- 
goon's sword  of  that  day.  Lastly,  we  came  to  Cockenzie,  where  Mr. 
Francis  Cadell,  my  publisher's  brother,  gave  us  a  kind  reception.  I 
was  especially  glad  to  see  the  mother  of  the  family,  a  fine  old  lady, 
who  was  civil  to  my  aunt  and  me,  and,  I  recollect  well,  used  to  have 
us  to  tea  at  Cockenzie.  Curious  that  I  should  long  afterwards  have 
an  opportunity  to  pay  back  this  attention  to  her  son  Robert.  Once 
more,  what  a  kind  of  shuffling  of  the  hand  dealt  us  at  our  nativity. 
There  was  Mrs.  F.  Cadell,  and  one  or  two  young  ladies,  and  some  fine 
fat  children.  I  should  be  a  bastard  to  the  time1  did  I  not  tell  our  fare. 
We  had  a  tiled  whiting,2  a  dish  unknown  elsewhere,  so  there  is  a 
bone  for  the  gastronomers  to  pick.  Honest  John  Wood,3  my  old 
friend,  dined  with  us.  I  only  regret  I  cannot  understand  him,  as  he 
has  a  very  powerful  memory,  and  much  curious  information.  The 
whole  day  of  pleasure  was  damped  by  the  news  of  the  King's  death; 
it  was  fully  expected,  however,  as  the  termination  of  his  long  illness. 
But  he  was  very  good  to  me  personally,  and  a  kind  sovereign.  The 
common  people  and  gentry  join  in  their  sorrow.  Much  is  owing  to 
a  kindly  recollection  of  his  visit  to  this  country,  which  gave  all  men 
an  interest  in  him. 

June  29. — The  business  of  the  Court  was  suspended,  so  back  I 
came,  without  stop  or  stay,  and  to  work  went  I.  As  I  had  risen  early 
I  was  sadly  drowsy  ;  however,  I  fought  and  fagged  away  the  day.  I 
am  still  in  hope  to  send  my  whole  manuscript  to  Ballantyne  before 
the  10th  July.  Well,  I  must  devise  something  to  myself ;  I  must  do 
something  better  than  this  Demonological  trash.  It  is  nine  o'clock, 
and  I  am  weary,  yea,  my  very  spirit's  tired.4  After  ten  o'clock  Mr. 
Daveis,*  an  American  barrister  of  eminence,  deputed  to  represent  the 
American  States  in  a  dispute  concerning  the  boundaries  of  Nova 
Scotia  and  New  England,  with  an  introduction  to  me  from  Mr.  Tick- 
nor,  called  I  was  unable  to  see  him,  and  put  him  off  till  to-morrow 
morning  at  breakfast. 

June  30. — The  new  King  was  proclaimed,  and  the  College  of  Jus- 
tice took  the  oaths.  I  assisted  Mr.  Daveis,  who  is  a  pleasant  and  well- 
informed  man,  to  see  the  ceremony,  which,  probably,  he  would  hardly 
witness  in  his  own  country.  A  day  of  noise  and  bustle.  We  dined 
at  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Strange,  chere  exquise  I  suppose.  Many  friends  of 
the  Arniston  family.  I  thought  there  was  some  belief  of  Lord  Mel- 
ville losing  his  place.  That  he  may  exchange  it  for  another  is  very 
likely,  but  I  think  the  Duke  will  not  desert  him  who  adhered  to  him 
so  truly. 

i  King  John.  Act  I.  Sc.  1.  rt.9«  °f  Scotland,  etc.,  was  deaf  and  dumb;  he 

died  in  1838  in  his  seventy-fourth  year. 

»  A  whiting  dried  m  the  sun  ;  but  "tiled          4  Coriolanus,  Act  i.  Sc.  9. 
haddocks  "and  "  tiled  whitings  "  are  now  un-          6  charleg  s.  'navels  of  Portland,  a  friend  of 
known  to  the  fisher-folk  of  Cockenzie.  Mr  George  Ticknor,  in  whose  Life  (2  vols.  8vo, 

s  John  Philip  Wood,  editor  of  Douglas's  Petr-      Boston,  1876)  he  is  often  mentione4 


JULY 

July  1. — Mr.  Daveis  breakfasted  with  me.  On  nearer  acquaint- 
ance, I  was  more  galled  by  some  portion  of  continental  manners  than 
I  had  been  at  first,  so  difficult  is  it  for  an  American  to  correct  his 
manner  to  our  ideas  of  perfect  good-breeding.1  I  did  all  that  was 
right,  however,  and  asked  Miss  Ferrier,  whom  he  admires  prodigious- 
ly, to  meet  him  at  dinner.  Hither  came  also  a  young  friend,  so  I 
have  done  the  polite  thing  every  way.  Thomson  also  dined  with  us. 
After  dinner  I  gave  my  strangers  an  airing  round  the  Corstorphine 
hills,  and  returned  by  the  Cramond  road.  I  sent  to  Mr.  Gibson,  Ca- 
dell's  project  for  Lammas,  which  raises  £15,000  for  a  dividend  of  3s. 
to  be  then  made.  I  think  the  trustees  should  listen  to  this,  which  is 
paying  one-half  of  my  debt. 

July  2.  —  Have  assurances  from  John  Gibson  that  £15,000 
should  be  applied  as  I  proposed.  If  this  can  be  repeated  yearly  up 
to  1835  the  matter  is  ended,  and  well  ended;  yet,  woe's  me!  the 
public  change  their  taste,  and  their  favourites  get  old.  Yet  if  I  was 
born  in  1771, 1  shall  only  be  sixty  in  1831,  and,  by  the  same  reason- 
ing, sixty-four  in  1835,  so  I  may  rough  it  out,  yet  be  no  Sir  Robert 
Preston.  At  any  rate,  it  is  all  I  have  to  trust  to. 

I  did  a  morning's  task,  and  was  detained  late  at  the  Court ;  came 
home,  ate  a  hearty  dinner,  slumbered  after  it  in  spite  of  my  teeth, 
and  made  a  poor  night's  work  of  it.  One's  mind  gets  so  dissipated 
by  the  fagging,  yet  insignificant,  business  of  the  offices ;  my  release 
comes  soon,  but  I  fear  for  a  term  only,  for  I  doubt  if  they  will  carry 
through  the  Court  Bill. 

July  3. — My  day  began  at  seven  as  usual.  Sir  Adam  came  to 
breakfast.  I  read  Southey's  edition  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and 
think  of  reviewing  the  same.  I  would  I  had  books  at  hand.  To  the 
Court,  and  remained  till  two ;  then  went  to  look  at  the  drawings  for 
repairing  Murthly,  the  house  of  Sir  John  or  James  Stewart,  now 
building  by  Gillespie  Graham,  and  which  he  has  planned  after  the 
fashion  of  James  vi.'s  reign,  a  kind  of  bastard  Grecian" — very  fanci- 

1  An  amusing  illustration  of  the  difficulty  of  easy  to  recognise  the  same  individuals.  .  .  . 
seeing  ourselves  as  others  see  us  may  be  found  But  after  a  while,  'you  see  the  same  rough  fig- 
written  twenty-flvo  years  later  by  Nathaniel  ure  through  all  the  finery,  and  become  sensible 
Hawthorne,  where  the  author  of  the  Scarlet  that  John  Bull  cannot  make  himself  fine,  what  - 
Letter  expresses  in  like  manner  his  surprise  at  ever  he  may  put  on.  He  is  a  rough  animal, 
the  want  of  reOnement  in  Englishmen: — "Ihad  and  his  female  is  well  adapted  to  him.'"  — 
been  struck  by  the  very  rough  aspect  of  these  Hawthorne  ami  His  Wife,  vol.  ii.  p.  70.  2  vols. 
John  Bulls  in'their  morning  garb,  their  coarse  8vo.  Cambridge,  U.S.A.,  1884. 
frock-coats,  grey  hats,  check  trousers,  and  2  Architects  style  it  Elizabethan,  but  Sir  Wai- 
Stout  shoes;  at  dinner-table  it  was  not  at  first  ter's  term  is  not  inappropriate. 


500  JOURNAL  [JULY 

ful  and  pretty  though.  Read  Hone's  J£very-day  Book,  and  with  a 
better  opinion  of  him  than  I  expected  from  his  anti-religious  frenzy. 
We  are  to  dine  with  the  Skenes  to-day. 

Which  we  did  accordingly,  meeting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Strange,  Lord 
Forbes,  and  other  friends. 

July  4. — Was  a  complete  and  serious  day  of  work,  only  inter- 
rupted in  the  evening  by ,  who,  with  all  the  freedom  and  ease  of 

continental  manners,  gratified  me  with  his  gratuitous  presence.  Yet 
it  might  have  been  worse,  for  his  conversation  is  well  enough,  but  it 
is  strange  want  of  tact  to  suppose  one  must  be  alike  welcome  to  a 
stranger  at  all  hours  of  the  day ;  but  I  have  stuffed  the  portfolio,  so 
do  not  grudge  half-an-hour. 

July  5. — I  was  up  before  seven  and  resumed  my  labours,  and  by 
breakfast-time  I  had  reached  p.  133;  it  may  reach  to  160  or  170  as 
I  find  space  and  matter.  Buchanan1  came  and  wrote  about  fifteen 
of  his  pages,  equal  to  mine  in  proportion  of  three  to  one.  We  are 
therefore  about  p.  138,  and  in  sight  of  land.  At  two  o'clock  went  to 
bury  poor  George  Burnet,  the  son  of  Gilbert  Innes,  in  as  heavy  a  rain 
as  I  ever  saw.  Was  in  Shandwick  Place  again  by  four  and  made 
these  entries.  I  dine  to-day  with  the  Club  ;  grant  Heaven  it  fair  be- 
fore six  o'clock ! 

We  met  at  Barry's,"  and  had  a  gallant  dinner,  but  only  few  of  our 
number  was  present.  Alas !  sixty  does  not  rally  to  such  meetings 
with  the  alacrity  of  sixteen,  and  our  Club  has  seen  the  space  between 
these  terms.  I  was  home  and  abed  when  Charles  arrived  and  waked 
me.  Poor  fellow  !  he  is  doing  very  well  with  his  rheumatic  limbs. 

July  6. — I  did  little  this  morning  but  correct  some  sheets,  and 
was  at  the  Court  all  morning.  About  two  I  called  at  Mr.  Cadell's, 
and  I  learned  the  dividend  was  arranged.  Sir  Adam  fell  in  with  us, 
and  laid  anchors  to  windward  to  get  an  invitation  to  Cockenzie  for 
next  year,  being  struck  with  my  life-like  description  of  a  tiled  had- 
dock. I  came  home  much  fagged,  slept  for  half-an-hour  (I  don't 
like  this  lethargy),  read  /  Promessi  Sposi,  and  was  idle.  Miss  Kerr 
dined  and  gave  us  music. 

July  7. — This  morning  corrected  proofs,  with  which  J.  B.  pro- 
ceeds lazily  enough,  and  alleges  printing  reasons,  of  which  he  has 
plenty  at  hand.  Though  it  was  the  Teind  Wednesday  the  devil 
would  have  it  that  this  was  a  Court  of  Session  day  also  for  a  cause 
of  mine ;  so  there  I  sat  hearing  a  dozen  cases  of  augmentation  of 
stipend  pleaded,  and  wondering  within  myself  whether  anything  can 
be  predicated  of  a  Scottish  parish,  in  which  there  cannot  be  discov- 
ered a  reason  for  enlarging  the  endowments  of  the  minister.  I  re- 
turned after  two,  with  a  sousing  shower  for  companion ;  I  got  very 
wet  and  very  warm.  But  shall  we  go  mourn  for  that,  my  dear  ?'  I 


«  An  amanuensis  who  was  employed  by  Scott          "  British  Hotel,  70  Queen  St. 
at  this  time.  3  See  Winter's  Tale,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 


1830.J  JOURNAL  501 

rather  like  a  flaw  of  weather ;  it  shows  something  of  the  old  man  is 
left.  I  had  Mr.  Buchanan  to  help  pack  my  papers  and  things,  and 
got  through  part  of  that  unpleasant  business. 

July  8. — I  had  my  letters  as  usual,  but  no  proofs  till  I  was  just 
going  out.  Returning  from  the  Court  met  Skene,  who  brought  me 
news  that  our  visit  was  at  an  end  for  Saturday,  poor  Colin  having 
come  to  town  very  unwell.  I  called  to  see  him,  and  found  him  suf- 
fering under  a  degree  of  slow  palsy,  his  spirits  depressed,  and  his 
looks  miserable,  worse  a  great  deal  than  when  I  last  saw  him.  His 
wife  and  daughter  were  in  the  room,  dreadfully  distressed.  We 
spoke  but  a  few  words  referring  to  recovery  and  better  days,  which, 
I  suspect,  neither  of  us  hoped.1  For  I  looked  only  on  the  ghost  of 
my  friend  of  many  a  long  day ;  and  he,  while  he  said  to  see  me  did 
him  good,  must  have  had  little  thought  of  our  meeting  under  better 
auspices.  We  shall,  of  course,  go  straight  to  Abbotsford,  instead  of 
travelling  by  Harcus  as  we  intended. 

July  9. — Two  distressed  damsels  on  my  hands,  one,  a  friend  of 
Harriet  Swinton,  translates  from  the  Italian  a  work  on  the  plan  of  / 
Promessi  Sposi,  but  I  fear  she  must  not  expect  much  from  the  trade. 
A  translation  with  them  is  a  mere  translation — that  is,  a  thing  which 
can  be  made  their  own  at  a  guinea  per  sheet,  and  they  will  not  have 
an  excellent  one  at  a  higher  rate.  Second  is  Miss  Young,  daughter 
of  the  excellent  Dr.  Young  of  Hawick.  If  she  can,  from  her  father's 
letters  and  memoranda,  extract  materials  for  a  fair  simple  account  of 
his  life,  I  would  give  my  name  as  editor,  and  I  think  it  might  do,  but 
for  a  large  publication — Palabras,  neighbour  Dogberry,8  the  time  is 
by.  Dined  with  the  Bannatyne,  where  we  had  a  lively  party. 
Touching  the  songs,  an  old  roue  must  own  an  improvement  in  the 

i  See  ante,  January  15,  1828,  p.  346.     Mr.  Mrs.  Skene  and  you,  with  some  of  our  young 

Mackenzie  of  Portraore  died    in  September,  friends,  will  do  us  the  pleasure  to  come  here 

1830,  when  Sir  Walter  wrote  Mr.  Skene  the  for  a  few  days.    We  see  how  separations  may 

following  letter: —  happen  among  friends,  and  should  not  neglect 

"DEAR  SKENE. — I  observe  from  the  papers  the  opportunity  of  being  together  while  we  can. 
that  our  invaluable  friend  is  no  more.  I  have  Besides,  entre  nous,  it  is  time  to  think  what  is 
reason  to  think,  that  as  I  surmised  when  I  saw  to  be  done  about  the  Society,  as  the  time  of 
him  last,  the  interval  has  been  a  melancholy  my  retirement  draws  nigh,  and  I  am  determin- 
one,  at  least  to  those  who  had  to  watch  the  ed,  at  whatever  loss,  not  to  drag  out  the  last 
progress.  I  never  expected  to  see  his  kind  face  sands  of  my  life  in  that  sand-cart  of  a  place, 
more,  after  I  took  leave  of  him  in  Charlotte  the  Parliament  House.  I  think  it  hurt  poor 
Square ;  yet  the  certainty  that  such  must  be  tho  Colin.  This  is,  however,  subject  for  future  con- 
case  is  still  a  painful  shock,  as  I  can  never  hope  sideration,  as  I  have  not  breathed  a  syllable 
again  to  meet,  during  the  remaining  span  of  about  resigning  the  Chair  to  any  one,  but  it 
my  own  life,  a  friend  in  whom  high  talents  for  must  soon  follow  as  a  matter  of  course.* 
the  business  of  life  were  more  happily  mingled  "Should  you  think  of  writing  to  let  me  know 
with  all  those  affections  which  form  the  dear-  how  the  distressed  family  are,  you  may  direct, 
est  part  of  human  intercourse.  In  that  respect  during  the  beginning  of  next  week,  to  Drutn- 
I  believe  his  like  hardly  is  to  be  found.  I  hope  lanrig,  Thornhill,  Dumfriesshire. 
Mrs.  Skene  and  you  will  make  my  assurance  "  My  kind  love  attends  my  dear  Mrs.  Skene, 
of  deep  sympathy,  of  which  they  know  it  is  ex-  girls,  boys,  and  all  the  family,  and  I  am,  al- 
pressed  by  a  friend  of  poor  Colin  of  fifty  years'  ways  yours,  WALTER  SCOTT. 

Standing.  «<  ABBOMFOHD,  1«*  S<f*tmttr  [1830]." 

"  I  hope  my  young  friend,  his  son,  will  keep 

his  father's  example  before  his  eyes.     His  best          a  Much  Ado  about  Nothing,  Act  in.  Sc.  5. 
friend  cannot  wish  him  a  better  model. 

"  I  am  just  setting  off  to  the  West  for  a  long-  »  sir  Wiater  had  been  President  of  the  Roval  Society 

promised  tour  Of  a  week.     I  Shall  be  at  Abbots-       of  Edinburgh  for  some  years ;  his  resignation  wu  not  *c- 

ford  after  Monday,  27th  current,  und  I  hope      c«j>t«4i  <«>d  i»»  retained'the  offic«  unta  h«  di«d. 


502  JOURNAL  [JULY 

times,  when  all  paw-paw  words  are  omitted,  and  naughty  innuendos 
gazes.  One  is  apt  to  say — 

"Swear  me,  Kate,  like  a  lady  as  thou  art, 
A  good  mouth-filling  oath,  and  leave  '  in  sooth,' 
And  such  protest  of  pepper-gingerbread."1 

I  think  there  is  more  affectation  than  improvement  in  the  new  mode. 

July  10. — Rose  rather  late  :  the  champagne  and  turtle,  I  suppose, 
for  our  reform  includes  no  fasting.  Then  poor  Ardwell  came  to 
breakfast ;  then  Dr.  Young's  daughter.  I  have  projected  with  Cadell 
a  plan  of  her  father's  life,  to  be  edited  by  me.*  If  she  does  but  tol- 
erably, she  may  have  a  fine  thing  of  it.  Next  came  the  Court,  where 
sixty  judgments  were  pronounced  and  written  by  the  Clerks,  I  hope 
all  correctly,  though  an  error  might  well  happen  in  such  a  crowd,  and 

,  one  of  the  best  men  possible,  is  beastly  stupid.  Be  that  as  it 

may,  off  came  Anne,  Charles,  and  I  for  Abbotsford.  We  started 
about  two,  and  the  water  being  too  deep  didn't  arrive  till  past  seven ; 
dinner,  etc.,  filled  up  the  rest  of  the  day. 

July  11,  Abbotsford. — Corrected  my  proofs  and  the  lave  of  it  till 
about  one  o'clock.  Then  started  for  a  walk  to  Chiefswood,  which  I 
will  take  from  station  to  station,'  with  a  book  in  my  pouch.  I  have 
begun  Lawrie  Todd,  which  ought,  considering  the  author's  undisputed 
talents,  to  have  been  better.  He  might  have  laid  Cooper  aboard,  but 
he  follows  far  behind.  No  wonder:  Gait,  poor  fellow,  was  in  the 
King's  Bench  when  he  wrote  it.  No  whetter  of  genius  is  necessity, 
though  said  to  be  the  mother  of  invention. 

July  12. — Another  wet  day,  but  I  walked  twice  up  and  down  the 
terrace,  and  also  wrote  a  handsome  scrap  of  copy,  though  mystified 
by  the  want  of  my  books,  and  so  forth.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Lockhart  and 
Violet  came  to  luncheon  and  left  us  to  drive  on  to  Peebles.  I  read 
and  loitered  and  longed  to  get  my  things  in  order.  Got  to  work, 
however,  at  seven  in  the  morning. 

July  13. — Now  "  what  a  thing  it  is  to  be  an  ass  !"4  I  have  a  let- 
ter from  a  certain  young  man,  of  a  sapient  family,  announcing  that 
his  sister  had  so  far  mistaken  my  attentions  as  to  suppose  I  was 
only  prevented  by  modesty  from  stating  certain  wishes  and  hopes, 
etc.  The  party  is  a  woman  of  rank :  so  far  my  vanity  may  be  satis- 
fied. But  to  think  I  would  wish  to  appropriate  a  grim  grenadier 
made  to  mount  guard  at  St.  James's !  The  Lord  deliver  me  !  I  ex- 
cused myself  with  little  picking  upon  the  terms,  and  there  was  no  oc- 
casion for  much  delicacy  in  repelling  such  an  attack. 

July  14. — The  Court  of  Session  Bill  is  now  committed  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  so  it  fairly  goes  on  this  season,  and  I  have,  I  sup- 
pose, to  look  for  my  conge.  I  can  hardly  form  a  notion  of  the  possi- 

1  1  King  Henry  IV.,  Act  in.  Sc.  1.  3  Sir  Walter  had  scats  placed  at  suitable  dis- 

2  The  biography  here  spoken  of  was  not  pub-       tances  between  the  house  and  Chiefswood. 
lished.  4  Titus  Andronieus,  Act  iv.  Sc.  2. 


1830.]  JOURNAL  503 

bility  that  I  am  not  to  return  to  Edinburgh.  My  clerk  Buchanan 
came  here,  and  assists  me  to  finish  the  Demonology  Letters,  and  be 
d — d  to  them.  But  it  is  done  to  their  hand.  Two  ladies,  Mrs.  La- 
touche  of  Dublin,  and  her  niece,  Miss  Boyle,  came  to  spend  a  day  or 
two.  The  aunt  is  a  fine  old  lady ;  the  conversation  that  of  a  serious 
person  frightened  out  of  her  wits  by  the  violence  and  superstition  of 
our  workers  of  miracles  in  the  west.1  Miss  Boyle  is  a  pretty  young 
woman,  rather  quiet  for  an  Irish  lass. 

July  16. — We  visited  at  Lessudden  yesterday,  and  took  Mrs.  La- 
touche  thither.  To-day,  as  they  had  left  us,  we  went  alone  to  Major 
John's  house  of  Ravenswood  and  engaged  a  large  party  of  cousins  to 
dine  to-morrow. 

In  the  evening  a  party  of  foreigners  came  around  the  door,  and 
going  out  I  found  Le  Comte  Ladislaus  de  Potocki,  a  great  name  in 
Poland,  with  his  lady  and  brother-in-law,  so  offered  wine,  coffee,  tea, 
etc.  The  lady  is  strikingly  pretty.  If  such  a  woman  as  she  had 
taken  an  affection  for  a  lame  baronet,  nigh  sixty  years  old,  it  would 
be  worth  speaking  about !  I  have  finished  the  Demonology? 

July  17. — Another  bad  day,  wet  past  all  efforts  to  walk,  and 
threatening  a  very  bad  harvest.  Persecuted  with  begging  letters; 
an  author's  Pegasus  is  like  a  post-chaise  leaving  the  door  of  the  inn : 
the  number  of  beggars  is  uncountable.  The  language  they  hold  of 
my  character  for  charity  makes  my  good  reputation  as  troublesome 
as  that  of  Joseph  Surface.*  A  dinner  of  cousins,  the  young  Laird  of 
Raeburn,  so  he  must  be  called,  though  nearly  as  old  as  I  am,  at  their 
head.  His  brother  Robert,  who  has  been  in  India  for  forty  years, 
excepting  one  short  visit :  a  fine  manly  fellow,  who  has  belled  the  cat 
with  fortune,  and  held  her  at  bay  as  a  man  of  mould  may.  Being 
all  kinsmen  and  friends,  we  made  a  merry  day  of  our  re-union.  All 
left  at  night. 

July  18.— 

"  Time  runs,  I  know  not  how,  away." 

Here  am  I  beginning  the  second  week  of  my  vacation  —  though 
what  needs  me  note  that  ? — vacation  and  session  will  probably  be  the 
same  to  me  in  the  future.  The  long  remove  must  then  be  looked  to, 
for  the  final  signal  to  break  up,  and  that  is  a  serious  thought. 

I  have  corrected  two  sets  of  proofs,  one  for  the  mail,  another  for 
the  Blucher  to-morrow. 

[No  entry  between  July  18  and  September  5.] 
[Mr.  Lockhart  remarks  that  it  was  during  this  interval  that  the 

1  For  an  account  of  these  "miracles  "  see  dressed  to  J.  G.  Lockhart,  Esq.,  was  published 
Peace  in  Believing— a,  memoir  of  Isabella  Camp-  before  the  end  of  the  year  in  Murray's  Family 
bell  of  Fernicarry.     Roseneath,  8vo,  1829.  Library. 

2  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  ad-  3  School  for  Scandal. 


504  JOURNAL  [JULY,  1830. 

highest  point  of  his  recovery  was  reached.  The  following  little  note 
accompanied  the  review  of  Southey's  JBunyan  to  Chiefswood  on  Au- 
gust 6th  :— 

"  Dear  Lockhart,  I  send  you  the  enclosed.  I  intended  to  have 
brought  it  myself  with  help  of  '  Daddy  Dun,'  but  I  find  the  weather 
is  making  a  rain  of  it  to  purpose. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  all  within  doors,  and  the  little  gardeners  all 
off  work.— Yours,  W.  S."] 

A  playful  yet  earnest  petition,  showing  Sir  Walter's  continued 
solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  the  good  "  Dominie  Sampson,"  was  also 
written  at  this  time  to  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch : — 

"  ABBOTSFORD,  20th  August. 

"  The  minister  of having  fallen  among  other  black  cocks  of 

the  season,  emboldens  me  once  more  to  prefer  my  humble  request  in 
favour  of  George  Thomson,  long  tutor  in  this  family.  His  case  is  so 
well  known  to  your  Grace  that  I  would  be  greatly  to  blame  if  I  en- 
larged upon  it.  His  morals  are  irreproachable,  his  talents  very  re- 
spectable. He  has  some  oddity  of  manner,  but  it  is  far  from  attach- 
ing to  either  the  head  or  the  heart.  .  .  . 

"  It  would  be  felt  by  me  among  one  of  the  deepest  obligations  of 
the  many  which  I  owe  to  the  house  of  Buccleuch.  I  daresay  your 
Grace  has  shot  a  score  of  black  game  to-day.  Pray  let  your  name- 
sake bag  a  parson." 


SEPTEMBER 

September  5. — In  spite  of  resolution  I  have  left  my  Diary  for  some 
weeks,  I  cannot  tell  why.  We  have  had  the  usual  number  of  travel- 
ling Counts  and  Countesses,  Yankees  male  and  female,  and  a  Yankee- 
Doodle-Dandy  into  the  bargain,  a  smart  young  Virginia  man.  We 
have  had  friends  of  our  own  also,  the  Miss  Ardens,  young  Mrs.  Mor- 
ritt  and  Anne  Morritt,  most  agreeable  visitors.1  Cadell  came  out 
here  yesterday  with  his  horn  filled  with  good  news.  This  will  in  ef- 
fect put  an  end  to  the  trust ;  only  the  sales  and  produce  must  be 
pledged  to  insure  the  last  £15,000  and  the  annuity  interest  of  £600. 
In  this  way  Mr.  Cadell  will  become  half-partner  in  the  remaining  vol- 


»  Sir  Walter  had  written  to  Morritt  on  his 
retirement  from  the  Court  of  Session,  and  his 
old  friend  responded  in  the  following  cordial 
letter:— 

"  November,  1830. 

"MY  DEAB  SCOTT, — ...  I  am  sorry  to  read 
what  you  tell  me  of  your  lameness,  but  legs 
are  not  so  obedient  to  many  of  us  at  our  age  as 
they  were  twenty  years  ago,  non  immune*  ab 
illis  malis  surmis,  as  the  learned  Partridge  and 
Lilly's  Grammar  tells  us.  I  find  mine  swell, 
and  am  forced  to  bandage,  and  should  not  ex- 
ert them  with  impunity  in  walking  as  I  used 
to  do,  either  in  long  walks  or  in  rough  ground. 
I  am  glad,  however,  you  have  escaped  from  the 
Court  of  Session,  even  at  the  risk  of  sometimes 
feeling  the  want  you  allude  to  of  winter  socie- 
ty. You  think  you  shall  tire  of  solitude  in 
these  months:  and  in  spite  of  books  and  the 
love  of  them,  I  have  discovered  by  experience 
the  possibility  of  such  a  feeling;  but  can  we 
not  in  some  degree  remedy  this?  Why  should 
we  both  be  within  two  days'  march  of  each 
other  and  not  sometimes  together,  as  of  old  ? 
How  I  have  enjoyed  in  your  house  the  sum- 
mwn  bonum  of  Sir  Win.  Temple's  philosophy, 
'something  which  is  not  Home  and  yet  with 
the  liberty  of  Home,  which  is  not  Solitude,  and 
yet  hath  the  ease  of  Solitude,  and  which  is  only 
found  in  the  house  of  an  old  friend. '  Our  sum- 
mer months  are  well  provided  with  summer 
friends.  You  have  plenty  and  to  spare  of 
sight -seers,  Lions,  and  their  hunters,  and  I 
have  travellers,  moor-shooters,  etc.,  in  equal 
abundance,  but  now  when  the  country  is  aban- 
doned, and  Walter  is  leaving  you,  how  I  wish 
you  would  bring  dear  Anne  and  partake  for  a 
while  our  little  circle  here  —  we  stir  not  till 
Christmas — if  before  that  time  such  a  pleasure 
could  be  attainable.  Well,  then,  for  auld  lang 
syne,  will  you  not,  now  that  the  Session  has 
no  claim  on  you,  combine  our  forces  against 
the  possibility  of  ennui.  If  you  will  do  this,  I 


will  positively,  and  in  good  faith,  hold  myself 
in  readiness  to  do  as  much  by  you  in  the  next 
November,  and  in  every  alternate  November, 
nor  shall  the  month  ever  pass  without  bring- 
ing us  together.  Do  not  tell  me,  as  Wm.  Rose 
would  not  fail  to  do  if  I  gave  him  so  good  an 
opportunity,  that  my  proposal  would  be  a  great- 
er bore  than  the  solitude  it  destroyed.  It  shall 
be  no  such  thing,  but  only  the  trouble  of  the 
journey.  I  feel  too,  as  I  grow  older,  the  vit 
inertias,  and  fancy  that  locomotion  is  more  dif- 
ficult, but  let  us  abjure  the  doctrine,  for  it 
baulks  much  pleasure.  Pray— pray  as  the  chil- 
dren say — come  to  us,  think  of  it  first  as  not 
impossible,  then  weigh  fairly  the  objections, 
and  if  they  resolve  themselves  into  mere  aver- 
sion to  change,  overcome  them  by  an  assurance 
that  the  very  change  will  give  value  to  the  re- 
sumption of  your  home  avocations.  If  I  plead 
thus  strongly,  perhaps  it  is  because  I  feel  the 
advantage  to  myself.  Time  has  made  gaps  in 
the  list  of  old  friends  as  in  yours;  young  ones, 
though  very  cheering  and  useful,  are  not,  and 
cannot  be,  the  same.  I  enjoy  them  too  when 
present,  but  in  absence  I  regret  the  others. 
What  remains  but  to  make  the  most  of  those 
we  have  still  left  when  both  body  and  mind 
permit  us  [to  enjoy]  them.  I  have  books;  also 
a  room  that  shall  [be  your  own],  and  a  [pony] 
off  which  I  can  shoot,  which  I  will  engage  shall 
neither  tumble  himself  or  allow  you  to  tumble 
in  any  excursion  on  which  you  may  venture. 
Dear  Anne  will  find  and  make  my  womenkind 
as  happy  as  you  will  make  me,  and  we  have 
only  to  beg  you  to  stay  long  and  be  most  cord- 
ially welcome.  .  .  .  Adieu,  dear  Scott.  I  fear 
you  will  not  come  for  all  I  can  say.  I  could 
almost  lose  a  tooth  or  a  finger  (if  it  were  neces- 
sary) to  find  myself  mistaken.  Come,  and  come 
soon;  stay  long;  be  assured  of  welcome. 

"All  unite  in  this  and  in  love  to  you  and 
Anne,  with  your  assured  friend, 

"J.  B.  MOKRITT." 


506  JOURNAL  [SEPT.  1830. 

umes  of  the  books  following  St.  Ronarfs ;  with  all  my  heart,  but  he 
must  pay  well  for  it,  for  it  is  good  property.  Neither  is  any  value 
stated  for  literary  profits  ;  yet,  four  years  should  have  four  novels  be- 
twixt 1830-4.  This  at  £2500  per  volume  might  be  £8000,  which 
would  diminish  Mr.  Cadell's  advance  considerably.  All  this  seems 
feasible  enough,  so  my  fits  of  sullen  alarm  are  ill  placed.  It  makes 
rne  care  less  about  the  terms  I  retire  upon.  The  efforts  by  which  we 
have  advanced  thus  far  are  new  in  literature,  and  what  is  gained  is 
secure. 

[JVb  entry  between  September  5  and  December  20.] 


DECEMBER 

December  20. — From  September  5  to  December  20  is  a  long  gap, 
and  I  have  seen  plenty  of  ihings  worth  recollecting,  had  I  marked 
them  down  when  they  were  gliding  past.  But  the  time  has  gone  by. 
When  I  feel  capable  of  taking  it  up,  I  will. 

Little  self  will  jostle  out  everything  else,  and  my  affairs,  which  in 
some  respects  are  excellent,  in  others,  like  the  way  of  the  world,  are 
far  from  being  pleasant. 

Of  good  I  have  the  pleasure  of  saying  I  have  my  children  well, 
and  in  good  health.  The  dividend  of  3s.  in  the  pound  has  been 
made  to  the  creditors,  and  the  creditors  have  testified  their  sense  of 
my  labours  by  surrendering  my  books,  furniture,  plate,  and  curiosi- 
ties. I  see  some  friends  of  mine  think  this  is  not  handsomely  done. 
In  my  opinion  it  is  extremely  so.  There  are  few  things  so  [easy]  as 
to  criticise  the  good  things  one  does,  and  to  show  that  we  ourselves 
would  have  done  [more]  handsomely.  But  those  who  know  the 
world  and  their  own  nature  are  always  better  pleased  with  one  kind 
action  carried  through  and  executed,  than  with  twenty  that  only  glide 
through  their  minds,  while  perhaps  they  tickle  the  imagination  of  the 
benevolent  Barmecide  who  supposes  both  the  entertainment  and  the 
eater.  These  articles  do  not  amount  to  less  than  £10,000  at  least, 
and,  without  dispensing  with  them  entirely,  might  furnish  me  with  a 
fund  for  my  younger  children.1  Now,  suppose  these  creditors  had 
not  seriously  carried  their  purpose  into  execution,  the  transaction 
might  have  been  afterwards  challenged,  and  the  ease  of  mind  which 
it  produced  to  me  must  have  been  uncertain  in  comparison.  Well! 
one-half  of  these  claims  are  cleared  off,  furnished  in  a  great  measure 
by  one-half  issue  of  the  present  edition  of  the  Waverley  Novels,  which 
had  reached  the  20th  of  the  series. 

It  cannot  be  expected  that  twenty  more  will  run  off  so  fast ;  the 
later  volumes  are  less  favourites,  and  are  really  less  interesting.  Yet 
when  I  read  them  over  again  since  their  composition,  I  own  I  found 
them  considerably  better  than  I  expected,  and  I  think,  if  other  circum- 
stances do  not  crush  them  and  blight  their  popularity,  they  will  make 
their  way.  Mr.  Cadell  is  still  desirous  to  acquire  one-half  of  the 
property  of  this  part  of  the  work,  which  is  chiefly  my  own.  He  pro- 
poses assembling  all  my  detached  works  of  fiction  and  articles  in 
Annuals,  so  that  the  whole,  supposing  I  write,  as  is  proposed,  six  new 


'  See  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  10-25. 


508  JOURNAL  PEC. 

volumes,  will  run  the  collection  to  fifty,  when  it  is  time  to  close  it. 
Between  cash  advanced  on  this  property,  and  a  profit  on  the  sale  of 
the  second  part,  Mr.  Cadell  thinks,  having  taken  a  year  or  two  years' 
time,  to  gather  a  little  wind  into  the  bag,  I  will  be  able  to  pay,  on  my 
part,  a  further  sum  of  £30,000,  or  the  moiety  remaining  of  the  whole 
debts,  amounting  now  to  less  then  £60,000. 

Should  this  happy  period  arrive  in  or  about  the  year  1832  the 
heavy  work  will  be  wellnigh  finished.  For,  although  £30,000  will 
still  remain,  yet  there  is  £20,000  actually  secured  upon  my  life,  and 
the  remaining  £10,000  is  set  against  the  sale  of  Waverley,  which 
shall  have  been  issued  ;  besides  which  there  is  the  whole  Poetry,  Bona- 
parte, and  several  other  articles,  equally  [available]  in  a  short  time  to 
pay  up  the  balance,  and  afford  a  very  large  reversion. 

This  view  cannot  be  absolutely  certain,  but  it  is  highly  probable, 
and  is  calculated  in  the  manner  in  which  Building  Schemes  [are  dealt 
with],  and  is  not  merely  visionary.  The  year  1833  may  probably 
see  me  again  in  possession  of  my  estate. 

A  circumstance  of  great  consequence  to  my  habits  and  comforts 
was  my  being  released  from  the  Court  of  Session  on  November  1830 
(18th  day).  My  salary,  which  was  £1300,  was  reduced  to  £840.  My 
friends,  just  then  leaving  office,  were  desirous  to  patch  up  the  de- 
ficiency with  a  pension.  I  do  not  see  well  how  they  could  do  this 
without  being  exposed  to  obloquy,  which  they  shall  not  be  on  my 
account.  Besides,  though  £500  a  year  is  a  round  sum,  yet  I  would 
rather  be  independent  than  I  would  have  it. 

My  kind  friend  the  Lord  Chief -Commissioner  offered  to  interfere 
to  have  me  named  a  Privy  Councillor ;  but  besides  that  when  one  is 
poor  he  ought  to  avoid  taking  rank,  I  would  be  much  happier  if  I 
thought  any  act  of  kindness  was  done  to  help  forward  Charles ;  and, 
having  said  so  much,  I  made  my  bow,  and  declared  my  purpose  of 
remaining  satisfied  with  the  article  of  my  knighthood.  And  here  I 
am,  for  the  rest  of  my  life  I  suppose,  with  a  competent  income,  which 
I  can  [increase]. 

All  this  is  rather  pleasing,  nor  have  I  the  least  doubt  that  I  could 
make  myself  easy  by  literary  labour.  But  much  of  it  looks  like 
winding  up  my  bottom  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  But  there  is  a  worse 
symptom  of  settling  accounts,  of  which  I  have  felt  some  signs. 

Last  spring,  Miss  Young,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Young,  had  occa- 
sion to  call  on  me  on  some  bnsiness,  in  which  I  had  hopes  of  serving 
her.  As  I  endeavoured  to  explain  to  her  what  I  had  to  say,  I  had 
the  horror  to  find  1  could  not  make  myself  understood.  I  stammered, 
stuttered,  said  one  word  in  place  of  another — did  all  but  speak;  Miss 
Young  went  away  frightened  enough,  poor  thing;  and  Anne  and 
Violet  Lockhart  were  much  alarmed.  I  was  bled  with  cupping- 
glasses,  took  medicine,  and  lived  on  panada ;  but  in  two  or  three  days 
I  was  well  again.  The  physicians  thought,  or  said  at  least,  that  the 
evil  was  from  the  stomach.  It  is  very  certain  that  I  have  seemed  to 


1830.]  JOURNAL  509 

speak  with  an  impediment,  and  I  was,  or  it  might  be  fancied  myself, 
troubled  with  a  mispronouncing  and  hesitation.  I  felt  this  particularly 
at  the  Election,  and  sometimes  in  society.  This  went  on  till  last  No- 
vember, when  Lord came  out  to  make  me  a  visit.  I  had  for  a 

long  time  taken  only  one  tumbler  of  whisky  and  water  without  the 
slightest  reinforcement.  This  night  I  took  a  very  little  drop,  not  so 
much  as  a  bumper  glass,  of  whisky  altogether.  It  made  no  difference 
on  my  head  that  I  could  discover,  but  when  I  went  to  the  dressing- 
room  I  sank  stupefied  on  the  floor.  I  lay  a  minute  or  two — was  not 
found,  luckily,  gathered  myself  up,  and  got  to  my  bed.  I  was  alarm- 
ed at  this  second  warning,  consulted  Abercrombie  and  Ross,  and  got 
a  few  restrictive  orders  as  to  diet.  I  am  forced  to  attend  to  them ; 
for,  as  Mrs.  Cole  says,  "  Lack-a-day  !  a  thimbleful  oversets  me." 

To  add  to  these  feelings  I  have  the  constant  increase  of  my  lame- 
ness :  the  thigh-joint,  knee-joint,  and  ankle-joint. 

December  21. — I  walk  with  great  pain  in  the  whole  limb,  and  am 
at  every  minute,  during  an  hour's  walk,  reminded  of  my  mortality.  I 
should  not  care  for  all  this,  if  I  was  sure  of  dying  handsomely.  Ca- 
dell's  calculations  would  be  sufficiently  firm  though  the  author  of 
Waverley  had  pulled  on  his  last  nightcap.  Nay,  they  might  be  even 
more  trustworthy,  if  Remains,  and  Memoirs,  and  such  like,  were  to 
give  a  zest  to  the  posthumous.  But  the  fear  is  the  blow  be  not  suffi- 
cient to  destroy  life,  and  that  I  should  linger  on  an  idiot  and  a 
show.1 .... 

We  parted  on  good  terms  and  hopes.4  But,  fall  back,  fall  edge, 
nothing  shall  induce  me  to  publish  what  I  do  not  think  advantageous 
to  the  community,  or  suppress  what  is. 

December  23. — To  add  for  this  day  to  the  evil  thereof,  I  am 
obliged  to  hold  a  Black-fishing  Court  at  Selkirk.  This  is  always  a  very 
unpopular  matter  in  one  of  our  counties,  as  the  salmon  never  do  get 
up  to  the  heads  of  the  waters  in  wholesome  season,  and  are  there  in 
numbers  in  spawning-time.  So  that  for  several  years  during  the  late 
period,  the  gentry,  finding  no  advantage  from  preserving  the  spawn- 
ing fish,  neglected  the  matter  altogether  in  a  kind  of  dudgeon,  and 
the  peasantry  laid  them  waste  at  their  will.  As  the  property  is  very 
valuable,  the  proprietors  down  the  country  agreed  to  afford  some 
additional  passage  for  fish  when  the  river  is  open,  providing  they 

1  "  From  Marlborough'»  eyes  the  streams  of  dotage  flow, 
And  Swift  expires  a  driveller  and  a  show." 

— Johnson's  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes. 

'  Mr.  Cadell  and  Mr.  Ballantyne  had  arrived  his  library  the  chief  subject  of  conversation 

at  Abbotsford  on  the  18th,  bringing  with  them  during  the  evening.     Next  morning  Mr.  Bal- 

the  good  news  from  Edinburgh  of  the  payment  lantyne  was  asked  to  read  aloud  a  political  es- 

of  the  second  dividend,  and  of  the  handsome  say  on  Reform — intended  to  be  a  Fourth  Epistle 

conduct  of  the  creditors.      There  had  been  a  of  Malachi.      After  careful  consideration,  the 

painful  discussion  between  them  and  Sir  \Val-  critical  arbiters  concurred  in  condemning  the 

ter  during  the  early  part  of  the  winter  on  Count  production,  but  suggested  a  compromise.     His 

Robert  of  Paris,  particulars  of  which  are  given  friends  left  him  on  the  21st,  and  the  essay, 

in  the  Life  (vol.  x.  pp.  C.  10-17.  21-23),  but  they  though    put    in    type,   was   never   published, 

found  their  host  much  better  than  they  had  Proof  and  MS.  were  finally  consigned  to  the 

ventured  to  anticipate,  and  he  made  the  gift  of  flames! — Lift',  vol.  x.  pp.  21-25. 


510  JOURNAL  [DEC. 

will  protect  the  spawning  fish  during  close-time.  A  new  Act  has 
been  passed,  with  heavy  penalties  and  summary  powers  of  recovery. 
Some  persons  are  cited  under  it  to-day ;  and  a  peculiar  licence  of 
poaching  having  distinguished  the  district  of  late  years,  we  shall  be 
likely  to  have  some  disturbance.  They  have  been  holding  a  meeting 
for  reform  in  Selkirk,  and  it  will  be  difficult  to  teach  them  that  this 
consists  in  anything  else  save  the  privilege  of  obeying  only  such  laws 
as  please  them.  We  shall  see,  but  I  would  have  counselled  the  mat- 
ter to  have  been  delayed  for  a  little  season.  I  shall  do  my  duty,  how- 
ever. Do  what  is  right,  come  what  will. 

Six  black-fishers  were  tried,  four  were  condemned.  All  went  very 
quietly  till  the  conclusion,  when  one  of  the  criminals  attempted  to 
break  out.  I  stopped  him  for  the  time  with  my  own  hand.1  But 
after  removing  him  from  the  Court-house  to  the  jail  he  broke  from 
the  officers,  who  are  poor,  feeble  old  men,  the  very  caricature  of 
peace  officers. 

December  24. —  This  morning  my  old  acquaintance  and  good 
friend  Miss  Bell  Ferguson  died  after  a  short  illness :  an  old  friend, 
and  a  woman  of  the  most  excellent  condition.  The  last  two  or  almost 
three  years  were  very  sickly. 

A  bitter  cold  day.  Anne  drove  me  over  to  Huntly  Burn  to  see 
the  family.  I  found  Colonel  Ferguson  and  Captain  John,  R.N.,  in 
deep  affliction,  expecting  Sir  Adam  hourly.  Anne  sets  off  to  Mertoun, 
and  I  remain  alone.  I  wrote  to  Walter  about  the  project  of  mak- 
ing my  succession  in  movables.  J.  B.  sent  me  praises  of  the  work 
I  am  busy  with.8  But  I  suspect  a  little  supercherie,  though  he  pro- 
tests not.  He  is  going  to  the  country  without  sending  me  the  polit- 
ical article.  But  he  shall  either  set  up  or  return  it,  as  I  won't  be 
tutored  by  any  one  in  what  I  do  or  forbear. 

December  25. — I  have  sketched  a  political  article  on  a  union  of 
Tories  and  an  Income  Tax.  But  I  will  not  show  my  teeth  if  I  find  I 
cannot  bite.  Arrived  at  Mertoun,  and  found  with  the  family  Sir  John 
Pringle,  Major  Pringle,  and  Charles  Baillie.  Very  pleasant  music  by 
the  Miss  Pringles. 

December  26,  [Mertoun]. — Prayers  after  breakfast,  being  Sunday. 
Afterwards  I  shut  myself  up  in  Mr.  Scott's  room.  He  has  lately  be- 
come purchaser  of  his  grandfather's  valuable  library,  which  was  col- 
lected by  Pope's  Lord  Marchmont.  Part  of  it  is  a  very  valuable  col- 
lection of  tracts  during  the  great  Civil  War.  I  spent  several  hours 
in  turning  them  over,  but  I  could  not  look  them  through  with  any 
accuracy.  I  passed  my  time  very  pleasantly,  and  made  some  extracts, 
however,  and  will  resume  my  research  another  day. 

1  An  account  of  this  incident  is  given  by  an  said  he;  '  if  you  do,  it  will  be  over  the  body  of 

eye-witness,  Mr.  Peter  Rodger,  Procurator-Fis-  an  old  man.1     Whereupon  the  other  officials 

cal,  who  says:  "The  prisoner,  thinking  it  a  of  the  Court  came  to  the  Sheriff's  assistance 

good  chance  of  escaping,  made  a  movement  in  and  the  prisoner  was  secured. " — Craig-Brown's 

direction  of  the  door.   This  Sir  Walter  detected  Selkirkshire,  vol.  ii.  p.  141. 
in  time  to  descend  from  the  Bench  and  place 

himself  in  the  desperate  man's  path.   '  Never ! '  a  Count  Robert  ofParit. 


1830.]  JOURNAL  511 

Major  Pringle  repeated  some  pretty  verses  of  his  own  composing. 

I  had  never  a  more  decided  inclination  to  go  loose,  yet  I  know  I 
had  better  keep  quiet. 

December  27,  [Abbotsford]. — Commences  snow,  and  extremely  bit- 
ter cold.  When  I  returned  from  Mertouu,  half  frozen,  I  took  up  the 
Magnum,  and  began  to  notify  the  romance  called  Woodstock,  in  which 
I  got  some  assistance  from  Harden's  ancient  tracts.  I  ought  rather 
to  get  on  with  Robert  of  Paris ;  but  I  have  had  all  my  life  a  longing 
to  do  something  else  when  I  am  called  to  particular  labour, — a  vile 
contradictory  humour  which  I  cannot  get  rid  of.  Well,  I  can  work 
at  something,  so  at  the  Magnum  work  I.  The  day  was  indeed  bro- 
ken, great  part  having  been  employed  in  the  return  from  Mertoun. 

December  28. — Drove  down  to  Huntly  Burn.  Sir  Adam  very  mel- 
ancholy, the  death  of  his  sister  having  come  with  a  particular  and 
shocking  surprise  upon  him.  After  half-an-hour's  visit  I  returned 
and  resumed  the  Magnum. 

December  29. — Attended  poor  Miss  Bell  Ferguson's  funeral.  I 
sat  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Thomson.  Though  ten  years  younger  than  me, 
I  found  the  barrier  between  him  and  me  much  broken  down.  We 
remember  it  though  with  more  or  less  accuracy.  We  took  the  same 
old  persons  for  subjects  of  correspondence  of  feeling  and  sentiment. 
The  difference  of  ten  years  is  little  after  sixty  has  passed.  In  a  cold 
day  I  saw  poor  Bell  laid  in  her  cold  bed.  Life  never  parted  with  a 
less  effort.  Letter  from  Cadell  offering  to  advance  on  second  series 
French  Tales.  This  will  come  in  good  time,  and  keep  me  easy.  He 
proposes  views  for  the  Magnum.  I  fear  politics  may  disappoint 
them. 

December  30. — Meeting  at  Selkirk  to-day  about  the  new  road  to 
Galashiels.  It  was  the  largest  meeting  I  ever  saw  in  Selkirkshire. 
We  gain  the  victory  by  no  less  than  14  to  4.  I  was  named  one  of 
the  committee  to  carry  the  matter  on,  so  in  gaining  my  victory  I  think 
I  have  caught  a  Tartar,  for  I  have  taken  on  trouble  enough.  Some 
company, — Lord  Napier,  Scotts  of  Harden,  Johnstone  of  Alva,  Major 
Pringle.  In  the  evening  had  some  private  conversation  with  H.  F. 
S.  and  R.  J.,  and  think  there  is  life  in  a  mussel.  More  of  this  here- 
after. 

December  31. — My  two  young  friends  left  this  morning,  but  not 
without  renewing  our  conversation  of  last  night.  We  carried  on  the 
little  amusements  of  the  day,  and  spent  our  Hogmanay  pleasantly 
enough,  in  spite  of  very  bad  auguries. 


1831.— JANUARY 

January  1,  1831. — I  cannot  say  the  world  opens  pleasantly  with 
me  this  new  year.  I  will  strike  the  balance.  There  are  many  things 
for  which  I  have  reason  to  be  thankful. 

First. — Cadell's  plans  seem  to  have  succeeded,  and  he  augurs  well 
as  to  the  next  two  years,  reckoning  £30,000  on  the  stuff  now  on  hand, 
and  £20,000  on  the  insurance  money,  and  £10,000  to  be  borrowed 
somehow.  This  will  bring  us  wonderfully  home. 

Second. — Cadell  is  of  opinion  if  I  meddle  in  politics,  and  I  am 
strongly  tempted  to  do  so,  I  shall  break  the  milk-pail,  and  threatens 
me  with  the  fate  of  Basil  Hall,  who,  as  he  says,  destroyed  his  reputa- 
tion by  writing  impolitic  politics.  Well,  it  would  be  my  risk,  and  if 
I  can  do  some  good,  which  I  rather  think  I  can,  is  it  right  or  manly 
to  keep  myself  back? 

Third. — I  feel  myself  decidedly  weaker  in  point  of  health,  and  am 
now  confirmed  I  have  had  a  paralytic  touch.  I  speak  and  read  with 
embarrassment,  and  even  my  handwriting  seems  to  stammer.  This 
general  failure 

"  With  mortal  crisis  doth  portend, 
My  days  to  appropinque  an  end." ' 

I  am  not  solicitous  about  this,  only  if  I  were  worthy  I  would  pray 
God  for  a  sudden  death,  and  no  interregnum  between  I  cease  to  ex- 
ercise reason  and  I  cease  to  exist. 

The  Scotts  of  Harden,  Pringles  of  Stitchill,  and  Russells  of  Ashe- 
stiel,  are  all  here ;  I  am  scarce  fit  for  company  though. 

January  2. — Held  a  great  palaver  with  the  Scotts,  etc.  I  find 
my  language  apt  to  fail  me ;  but  this  is  very  like  to  be  fancy,  and  I 
must  be  cautious  of  giving  way  to  it.  This  cautions  me  against  pub- 
lic exertion  much  more  than  Cadell's  prognostications,  which  my  blood 
rises  against,  and  which  are  ill  calculated  to  keep  me  in  restraint. 
We  dozed  through  a  gloomy  day,  being  the  dullest  of  all  possible 
thaws. 

January  3. — I  had  a  letter  from  the  Lord  Chief  Commissioner, 
mentioning  the  King's  intention  to  take  care  of  Charles's  interests 
and  promotion  in  the  Foreign  Office,  an  additional  reason  why  I  should 
not  plunge  rashly  into  politics,  yet  not  one  which  I  can  understand  as 
putting  a  padlock  on  my  lips  neither.  I  may  write  to  L.  C.  C.  that  I 

i  Iludibras. 


JAN.  1831.]  JOURNAL  513 

may  be  called  on  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  impending  changes, 
that  I  have  an  opinion,  and  a  strong  one,  and  that  I  hope  this  fresh 
favour  [may  not  be  regarded]  as  padlocking  my  lips  at  a  time  when 
it  would  otherwise  be  proper  to  rae  to  speak  or  write.  I  am  shocked 
to  find  that  I  have  not  the  faculty  of  delivering  myself  with  facility 
— an  embarrassment  which  may  be  fanciful,  but  is  altogether  as  an- 
noying as  if  real. 

January  4. — A  base,  gloomy  day,  and  dispiriting  in  proportion.  I 
walked  out  with  Swanston1  for  about  an  hour :  everything  gloomy  as 
the  back  of  the  chimney  when  there  is  no  fire  in  it.  My  walk  was  a 
melancholy  one,  feeling  myself  weaker  at  every  step  and  not  very 
able  to  speak.  This  surely  cannot  be  fancy,  yet  it  looks  something 
like  it.  If  I  knew  but  the  extent  at  which  my  inability  was  like  to 
stop,  but  every  day  is  worse  than  another.  I  have  trifled  much  time, 
too  much ;  I  must  try  to*  get  afloat  to-morrow,  perhaps  getting  an 
amanuensis  might  spur  me  on,  for  one-half  is  nerves.  It  is  a  sad 
business  though. 

January  5. — Very  indifferent,  with  more  awkward  feelings  than  I 
can  well  bear  up  against.  My  voice  sunk  and  my  head  strangely 
confused.  "When  I  begin  to  form  my  ideas  for  conversation  expres- 
sions fail  me,  even  in  private  conversation,  yet  in  solitude  they  are 
sufficiently  arranged.  I  incline  to  hold  that  these  ugly  symptoms  are 
the  work  of  imagination ;  but,  as  Dr.  Adam  Ferguson,2  a  firm  man  if 
ever  there  was  one  in  the  world,  said  on  such  an  occasion,  What  is 
worse  than  imagination  ?  As  Anne  was  vexed  and  frightened,  I  al- 
lowed her  to  send  for  young  Clarkson.  Of  course  he  could  tell  but 
little,  save  what  I  knew  before. 

January  6. — A  letter  from  Henry  Scott  about  the  taking  ground 
for  keeping  the  reform  in  Scotland  upon  the  Scottish  principles.  I 
will  write  him  my  private  sentiments,  but  avoid  being  a  boute-feu. 

Go  this  day  to  Selkirk,  where  I  found  about  120  and  more  per- 
sons of  that  burgh  and  Galashiels,  who  were  sworn  in  as  special  con- 
stables, enough  to  maintain  the  peace.  What  shocked  me  particularly 
was  the  weakness  of  my  voice  and  the  confusion  of  my  head  attempt- 
ing to  address  them,  which  was  really  a  poor  affair.  On  my  return  I 
found  the  Rev.  Mr.  Milne  of  Quebec,  a  friend  of  my  sister-in-law. 
Another  time  would  have  been  better  for  company,  but  Captain  John 
Ferguson  and  Mr.  Laidlaw  coming  in  to  dinner,  we  got  over  the  day 
well  enough. 

January  7. — A  fine  frosty  day,  and  my  spirits  lighter.  I  have  a 
letter  of  great  comfort  from  Walter,  who  in  a  manly,  handsome,  and 
dutiful  manner  expressed  his  desire  to  possess  the  library  and  mov- 
ables of  every  kind  at  Abbotsford,  with  such  a  valuation  laid  upon 
them  as  I  choose  to  impose.  This  removes  the  only  delay  to  making 

>  John  Swanston,  a  forester  at  Abbotsford,  »  Dr.  Ferguson,  Sir  Adam's  father,  died  in 

who  did  all  he  could  to  replace  Tom  Purdie.—  1816. —  See  Misc.  Prose   Work*,  vol    xix.  pp. 

Life,  vol.  x.  p.  66.  331-33. 
33 


514  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

my  will.  Supposing  the  literary  property  to  clear  the  debts  by  aid 
of  insurances  and  other  things,  about  1835  it  will  come  into  my  per- 
son, and  I  will  appoint  the  whole  to  work  off  the  heritable  debt  of 
£10,000.  If  the  literary  property  can  produce  that  sum,  besides 
what  it  has  already  done,  I  would  convey  it  to  the  three  younger 
children. 

January  8. — Spent  much  time  in  writing  instructions  for  my  last 
will  and  testament.  Sent  off  parcel  by  Dr.  Milne,  who  leaves  to-d;iy. 
Have  up  two  boys  for  shop-lifting.  Remained  at  Galashiels  till  four 
o'clock,  and  returned  starved.  Could  work  none,  and  was  idle  all 
evening — try  to-morrow  for  a  work-day ;  so  loiter  on. 

January  10. — Went  over  to  Galashiels,  and  was  busied  the  whole 
time  till  three  o'clock  about  a  petty  thieving  affair,  and  had  before  me 
a  pair  of  gallows'-birds,  to  whom  I  could  say  nothing  for  total  want 
of  proof,  except,  like  the  sapient  Elbow,  Thou  shalt  continue  there  ; 
know  thou,  thou  shalt  continue.1  A  little  gallow  brood  they  were, 
and  their  fate  will  catch  them.  Sleepy,  idle,  and  exhausted  on  this. 
Wrought  little  or  none  in  the  evening. 

Wrote  a  long  letter  to  Henry  [Scott],  who  is  a  fine  fellow,  and 
what  I  call  a  heart  of  gold.  He  has  sound  parts,  good  sense,  and  is 
a  true  man.  Also,  I  wrote  to  my  excellent  friend  the  Lord  Chief 
[Commissioner].  I  thought  it  right  to  say  that  I  accepted  with 
gratitude  his  Majesty's  goodness,  but  trusted  it  was  not  to  bind  me  to 
keep  my  fingers  from  pen  and  ink  should  a  notion  impress  me  that  I 
could  help  the  country.  I  walked  a  little,  to  my  exceeding  refresh- 
ment. I  am  using  that  family  ungratefully.  But  I  will  not,  for  a 
punctilio,  avoid  binding,  if  I  can,  a  strong  party  together  for  the  King 
and  country,  and  if  I  see  I  can  do  anything,  or  have  a  chance  of  it,  I 
will  not  fear  for  the  skin-cutting.  It  is  the  selfishness  of  this  genera- 
tion that  drives  me  mad. 

"A  hundred  pounds? 
Ha!  thou  hast  tquched  me  nearly." 

I  will  get  a  parcel  copied  to-morrow  ;  wrote  several  letters  at  night. 
January  11. — Wrote  and  sent  off  three  of  my  own  pages  in  the 
morning,  then  walked  with  Swanston.  1  tried  to  write  before  din- 
ner, but,  with  drowsiness  and  pain  in  my  head,  made  little  way.  My 
friend  Will  Laidlaw  came  in  to  dinner,  and  after  dinner  kindly  offered 
his  services  as  amanuensis.  Too  happy  was  I,  and  I  immediately 
plunged  him  into  the  depths  of  Count  Robert,  so  we  got  on  three  or 
four  pages,  worth  perhaps  double  the  number  of  print.  I  hope  it  did 
not  take  him  too  short,  but  after  all  to  keep  the  press  going  with- 
out an  amanuensis  is  impossible,  and  the  publishers  may  well  pay  a 
sponsible  person.  He  comes  back  to-morrow.  It  eases  many  of  my 

1  See  Measure  for  Measure,  Act  n.  Sc.  1. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  515 

anxieties,  and  I  will  stick  to  it.  I  really  think  Mr.  Laidlaw  is  pleased 
with  the  engagement  for  the  time.  Sent  off  six  close  pages. 

January  12. — I  have  a  visit  from  Mr.  Macdonald  the  sculptor,  who 
wishes  to  model  a  head  of  me.  He  is  a  gentlemanlike  man,  and 
pleasant  as  most  sculptors  and  artists  of  reputation  are,  yet  it  is  an 
awful  tax  upon  time.  I  must  manage  to  dictate  while  he  models, 
which  will  do  well  enough. 

So  there  we  sat  for  three  hours  or  four,  I  sitting  on  a  stool 
mounted  on  a  packing-box,  for  the  greater  advantage  ;  Macdonald 
modelling  and  plastering  away,  and  I  dictating,  without  interval,  to 
good-natured  Will  Laidlaw,  who  wrought  without  intermission.  It 
is  natural  to  ask,  Do  I  progress  ?  but  this  is  too  feverish  a  question. 
A  man  carries  no  scales  about  him  to  ascertain  his  own  value.  I  al- 
ways remember  the  prayer  of  Virgil's  sailor  in  extremity : — 

"  Non  jam  prima  peto  Mnestheus,  neque  vincere  certo ; 
Quamquam  0  ! — Sed  superent  quibus  hoc,  Neptune,  dedisti ! 
Extremes  pudeat  rediisse :  hoc  vincite,  cives, 
Et  prohibete  nefas  !"  ' 

We  must  to  our  oar ;  but  I  think  this  and  another  are  all  that 
even  success  would  prompt  me  to  write  ;  and  surely  those  that  have 
been  my  defenders 

"  Have  they  so  long  held  out  with  me  untired, 
And  stop  they  now  for  breath?     Well,  be  it  so."2 

January  13. — WTent  to  Selkirk  on  the  business  of  the  new  high 
road.  I  perceive  Whytbank  and  my  cousin  Colonel  Russell  of  Ashe- 
stiel  are  disposed  to  peep  into  the  expenses  of  next  year's  outlay, 
which  must  be  provided  by  loan.  This  will  probably  breed  strife. 
Wrote  a  hint  of  this  to  Charles  Balfour.  Agreed  with  Smith  so  far 
as  contracting  for  the  Bridges  at  £1200  each.  I  suspect  we  are 
something  like  the  good  manager  who  distressed  herself  with  buying 
bargains. 

January  15. — Gave  the  morning  from  ten  till  near  two  to  Mr. 
Macdonald,  who  is  proceeding  admirably  with  his  bust.  It  is  bloody 
cold  work,  but  he  is  an  enthusiast  and  much  interested  ;  besides,  I 
can  sit  and  dictate  owing  to  Mr.  Laidlaw,  and  so  get  forward,  while  I 
am  advancing  Lorenzo  di  Guasco,  which  is  his  travelling  name.  I 
wrote  several  letters  too,  and  got  through  some  business.  Walked, 
and  took  some  exercise  between  one  and  three. 

January  16. — Being  Sunday,  read  prayers.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James3 
go  to  look  for  a  house,  which  they  desire  to  take  in  this  country.  As 

>  &neid  v.  194-7 :  thus  rendered  in  English  Not  to  be  Oast  make  that  your  »im, 

by  Professor  Conington :—  And  "•''""P'1  °y  averting  ihame. 

'Tie  not  the  palm  that  Mncstheus  «eek« :  2  King  Richard  the  Third.  Act  IV.  S&  2. 

?e^,hoPethft'hCon7.t1-buhtScoCnq±:they  3  Mr.  G.  P.  R.  James,  author  of  Richelieu.  etc. 

To  whom  great  Neptune  wills  the  day :  He  afterwards  took  Maxpopple  for  the  season. 


516  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

Anne  is  ill,  the  presence  of  strangers,  though  they  arc  pleasant,  is 
rather  annoying.  Macdonald  continues  working  to  form  a  new  bust 
out  of  my  old  scalp.  I  think  it  will  be  the  last  sitting  which  I  will 
be  enticed  to.  Thanks  to  Heaven,  the  work  finishes  to-morrow.' 

January  17. — This  morning,  when  I  came  down-stairs,  I  found 
Mr.  Macdonald  slabbering  away  at  the  model.  He  has  certainly 
great  enthusiasm  about  his  profession,  which  is  a  sine  qua  non.  It 
was  not  till  twelve  that  a  post-chaise  carried  off  my  three  friends. 

I  had  wrote  two  hours  when  Dr.  Turner  came  in,  and  I  had  to  un- 
fold my  own  complaints.  I  was  sick  of  these  interruptions,  and  dis- 
missed Mr.  Laidlaw,  having  no  hope  of  resuming  my  theme  with 
spirit.  God  send  me  more  leisure  and  fewer  friends  to  peck  it  away 
by  tea-spoonfuls ! 

Another  fool  sends  to  entreat  an  autograph,  which  he  should  be 
ashamed  in  civility  to  ask,  as  I  am  to  deny  it.  I  got  notice  of  poor 
Henry  Mackenzie's  death.  He  has  long  maintained  a  niche  in  Scot- 
tish Literature — gayest  of  the  gay,  though  most  sensitive  of  the 
sentimental. 

January  18. — Came  down  from  my  bedroom  at  eight,  and  took  a 
rummage  in  the  way  of  putting  things  to  rights.  Dictated  to  Laid- 
law till  about  one  o'clock,  during  which  time  it  was  rainy.  After- 
wards I  walked,  sliding  about  in  the  mud,  and  very  uncomfortable. 
In  fact,  there  is  no  mistaking  the  three  sufficients,2  and  Fate  is  now 
straitening  its  circumvallations  round  me.  Little  likely  to  be  better 
than  I  am.  I  am  heart-whole  as  a  biscuit,  and  may  last  on  as  now 
for  eight  or  ten  years  ;  the  thing  is  not  uncommon,  considering  I  am 
only  in  my  sixtieth  year.  I  cannot  walk ;  but  the  intense  cold 

1  Mr.  Skenc  tells  us  that  when  No.  30  Castle  could  say  much,  but  it  is  better  to  leave  alone 

Street  was  "  displenished  "  in  1826,  Scott  sent  what  must  be  said  with  painful  feeling,  and 

him  the  full-length  portrait  of  himself  by  Rae-  you  would  be  vexed  with  reading, 

burn,  now  at  Abbotsford,  saying  that  he  did  "One  thing  I  will  put  to  rights  with  all  oth 

not  hesitate  to  claim  his  protection  for  the  pict-  ers  respecting  my  little  personal  affairs.     I  am 

ure,  which  was  threatened  to  be  paraded  under  putting  [in  order]  this  house  with  what  it  con- 

the  hammer  of  the  auctioneer,  and  he  felt  that  tains,  and  as  Walter  will  probably  be  anxious 

his  interposition  to  turn  aside  that  buffet  might  to  have  a  memorial  of  my  better  days,  I  intend 

admit  of  being  justified.     "As  a  piece  of  sue-  to  beg  you  and  my  dear  Mrs.  Skene  .  .  .  to  have 

cessful  art,  many  might  fancy  the  acquisition,  it  [the  picture]  copied  by  such  an  artist  as  you 

but  for  the  sake  of  the  original  ho  knew  no  ref-  should  approve  of,  to  supply  the  blank  which 

uge  where  it  was  likely  to  find  a  truer  welcome.  must  then  be  made  on  your  hospitable  walls 

The  picture  accordingly  remained  many  years  with  the  shadow  of  a  shade.     If  the  opportu- 

in  my  possession,  but  when  his  health  had  be-  nity  should  occur  of  copying  the  picture  to 

gun  to  break,  and  the  plan  of  his  going  abroad  your  mind,  I  will  be  happy  to  have  the  copy 

was  proposed,  I  thought  it  would  be  proper  to  as  soon  as  possible.    You  must  not  think  that 

return  the  picture,  for  which  purpose  I  had  a  I  am  nervous  or  foolishly  apprehensive  that  I 

most  successful  copy  made  of  it,  an  absolute  take  these  precautions.     They  are  necessary 

facsimile,  for  when  the  two  were  placed  beside  and  right,  and  if  one  puts  off  too  long,  we 

each  other  it  wasalmost  impossible  to  determine  sometimes  are  unfit  for  the  task  when  we  de- 

which  was  the  original  and  which  the  copy."  sire  to  take  it  up.  .  .  . 

— Reminitcenceg.     Thus  forestalling  the  wish  "  When  the  weather  becomes  milder,  I  hope 

expressed  in  the  affecting  letter  now  given,  Mrs.  Skene  and  you,  and  some  of  the  children, 

which  belongs  to  this  day.    See  ante,  p.  87  n.  will  come  out  to  brighten  the  chain  of  friend- 

"  MY  HEAR  SKKNB,— I  have  had  no  very  pleas-  ship  with  your  truly  faithful, 

ant  news  to  send  you,  as  I  know  it  will  give  "  WALTER  SCOTT. 

Mrs.  Skene  and  you  pain  to  know  that  I  am  "  ABBOTBFORD,  16  January,  1831." 
suffering  under  a  hundred  little  ailments  which 

have  greatly  encroached  upon  the  custom  of  *  Sir  W.  alludes  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Tale  of  The 

the  season  which  I  used  to  take.     On  this  I  Three  Warnings.— },  G.  L. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  517 

weather  ma}7  be  to  blame  in  this.  My  riding  is  but  a  scramble,  but 
it  may  do  well  enough,  for  exercise ;  and  though  it  is  unpleasant  to 
find  one's  enjoyment  of  hill  and  vale  so  much  abridged,  yet  still  when 
I  enjoy  my  books,  and  am  without  acute  pain,  I  have  but  little  to 
complain  of,  considering  the  life  I  have  led  so  long. 

"  So  hap  what  may ; 
Time  and  the  hour  run  through  the  roughest  day." ' 

Mr.  Laidlavv  came  down  at  ten,  and  we  wrought  till  one.  This 
should  be  a  good  thing  for  an  excellent  man,  and  is  an  important 
thing  to  me,  as  it  saves  both  my  eyesight  and  nerves,  which  last  are 
cruelly  affected  by  finding  those "  who  look  out  of  the  windows " 
grow  gradually  darker  and  darker.*  Rode  out,  or  more  properly, 
was  carried  out,  into  the  woods  to  see  the  course  of  a  new  road, 
which  may  serve  to  carry  off  the  thinnings  of  the  trees,  and  for  rides. 
It  is  very  well  lined,  and  will  serve  both  for  beauty  and  convenience. 
Mr.  Laidlaw  engages  to  come  back  to  dinner,  and  finish  two  or  three 
more  pages.  Met  my  agreeable  and  lady-like  neighbour,  Mrs.  Brew- 
ster,  on  my  pony,  and  I  was  actually  ashamed  to  be  seen  by  her. 

"  Sir  Dennis  Brand,  and  on  so  poor  a  steed." 3 

I  believe  detestable  folly  of  this  kind  is  the  very  last  that  leaves  us. 
One  would  have  thought  I  ought  to  have  little  vanity  at  this  time  o' 
day ;  but  it  is  an  abiding  appurtenance  of  the  old  Adam,  and  I  write 
for  penance  what,  like  a  fool,  I  actually  felt. 

January  19. — Wrote  on  by  Mr.  Laidlaw's  assistance.  Things  go 
bobbis.hly  enough ;  we  have  a  good  deal  finished  before  dinner. 
Henry  Scott  comes  to  dine  with  me  vis-a-vis,  and  we  have  a  grand 
dish  of  politics.  The  friends  of  old  Scotland  want  but  a  signal.  A 
certain  great  lawyer  says  that  if  Sir  W.  S.  wrote  another  Malachi  it 
would  set  more  men  on  fire  than  a  dozen  associations.  This  almost 
tempts  me.  But  the  canny  lad  says  moreover  that  to  appeal  to  na- 
tional partiality,  i.e.  that  you  should  call  on  Scotsmen  to  act  like 
Scotsmen,  is  unfair,  and  he  would  be  sorry  it  was  known  he,  late  and 
future  placeman,  should  encourage  such  paw-paw  doings.  Yet  if  Sir 
\V.  S.  could  be  got  to  stand  forlorn  hope,  the  legal  gentleman  would 
suggest,  etc.,  etc.  Suggest  and  be  d — d.  Sir  W.  S.  knows  when  to 
[doff]  his  bonnet,  and  when  to  cock  it  in  the  face  of  all  and  sundry. 
Moreover,  he  will  not  be  made  a  cat's-paw  of,  look  you  now. 

January  20. — Wrought  all  morning ;  a  monstrous  packet  of  let- 
ters at  mid-day.  Borrow  honest  Laidlaw's  fingers  in  the  evening.  I 
hope  his  pay  will  recompense  him:  it  is  better  than  "  grieve-ing "  or 
playing  Triptolemus.4  Should  be,  if  I  am  hard-working,  100  guineas, 


Macbeth,  Act  i.  Sc.  3.  3  Crabbc's  Bnn.ugh,  Letter  xiii. — j.  a. 

Eccles.  xii.  3.  4  See  Pirate. 


518  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

which,  with  his  house,  cow,  and  free  rent,  would  save,  I  believe,  some 
painful  thoughts  to  him  and  his  amiable  wife  and  children.  We 
will  see  how  the  matter  fudges.  Almost  finished  the  first  volume. 

January  21. — James  Ballantyne  in  ecstasies  at  our  plan  of  an 
amanuensis.  I  myself  am  sensible  that  my  fingers  begin  to  stam- 
mer— that  is,  to  write  one  word  instead  of  another  very  often.  I  im- 
pute this  to  fancy,  the  terrible  agency  of  which  is  too  visible  in  my 
illness,  and  it  encourages  me  to  hope  the  fatal  warning  is  yet  de- 
ferred. I  feel  lighter  by  a  million  ton  since  I  made  this  discovery. 
If  I  can  dictate  freely,  and  without  hesitation,  my  fear  to  speak  at 
the  meeting  about  the  road  was  vain  terror,  and  so  Andiamo  Caracci. 
Wrote  some  letters  this  afternoon. 

January  22. — Mr.  Laidlaw  rather  late  of  coming.  One  of  his 
daughters  has  been  ill,  and  he  is  an  approved  physician.  Pity  when 
one  so  gifted  employs  his  skill  on  himself  and  family  for  all  patients. 
We  got  on,  however,  to  page  46. 

January  23. — I  wrought  a  little  to-day.  Walked  to  Chiefswood, 
or  rather  from  it,  as  far  only  as  Habbie's  Howe.  Came  home,  cold 
indeed,  but  hearty.  Slept  after  dinner.  I  think  the  peep,  real  or 
imaginary,  at  the  gates  of  death  has  given  me  firmness  not  to  mind 
little  afflictions.  I  have  jumbled  this  and  the  preceding  day  strange- 
ly, when  I  went  to  Chiefswood  and  Huntly  Burn.  I  thought  this  a 
week-day. 

January  24. — Worked  with  Mr.  Laidlaw,  and,  as  the  snow  was  on 
the  ground,  did  so  without  intermission,  which  must  be  sinking  to 
the  spirits.  Held  on,  however. 

January  25. — Same  drizzling  waste,  rendering  my  footing  inse- 
cure, and  leaving  me  no  refuge  but  in  sitting  at  home  and  working 
till  one  o'clock.  Then  retired  upon  the  Sheriff  Court  processes. 
Bran,1  poor  fellow,  lies  yawning  at  my  feet,  and  cannot  think  what  is 
become  of  the  daily  scamper,  which  is  all  his  master's  inability  af- 
fords him.  This  grieves  me,  by  calling  back  the  days  of  old.  But 
I  may  call  them  as  I  may, 

"  Youth  winna  return,  nor  the  days  of  lang  syne." 

January  26. — I  have  Skene  and  Mr.  M'Culloch  of  Ardwell,  to  the 
relief  of  my  spirits  and  the  diminishing  of  my  time.  Mr.  Laidlaw 
joined  us  at  dinner. 

Bitter  cold. 

January  27. — So  fagged  with  my  frozen  vigils  that  I  slept  till 
after  ten.  When  I  lose  the  first  two  hours  in  the  morning  I  can  sel- 
dom catch  them  again  during  the  whole  day. 

A  friendly  visit  from  Ebenezer  Clarkson  of  Selkirk,  a  medical 


1  The  deer-hound  Bran  which  was  presented      garry's  gift.  —See  letter  to  Miss  Edgeworth, 
by  Macpherson  of  Cluny;   Xiinrod  was  Glen-      printed  in  Life,  vol.  is.,  p.  345. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  519 

gentleman  in  whose  experience  and  ingenuity  I  have  much  confidence, 
as  well  as  his  personal  regard  for  myself.  He  is  quite  sensible  of 
the  hesitation  of  speech  of  which  I  complain,  and  thinks  it  arises 
from  the  stomach.  Recommends  the  wild  mustard  as  an  aperient. 
But  the  brightest  ray  of  hope  is  the  chance  that  I  may  get  some  me- 
chanical aid  made  by  Fortune  at  Broughton  Street,  which  may  enable 
me  to  mount  a'pony  with  ease,  and  to  walk  without  torture.  This 
would,  indeed,  be  almost  a  restoration  of  my  youth,  at  least  of  a  green 
old  age  full  of  enjoyment.  The  shutting  one  out  from  the  face  of 
living  nature  is  almost  worse  than  sudden  death. 

January  28. — I  wrote  with  Laidlaw.  It  does  not  work  clear ;  I 
do  not  know  why.  The  plot  is,  nevertheless,  a  good  plot,  and  full  of 
expectation.1  But  there  is  a  cloud  over  me,  I  think,  and  interruptions 
are  frequent.  I  creep  on,  however. 

January  29. — Much  in  the  same  way  as  yesterday,  rather  feeling 
than  making  way.  Mr.  Williams  and  his  brother  came  in  after  din- 
ner. Welcome  both ;  yet  the  day  was  not  happy.  It  consumed  me 
an  afternoon,  which,  though  well  employed,  and  pleasantly,  had  the 
disagreeable  effect  of  my  being  kept  from  useful  work. 

January  30. — Snow  deep,  which  makes  me  alter  my  purpose  of 
going  to  town  to-morrow.  For  to-day,  my  friends  must  amuse  them- 
selves as  they  can. 

January  31  \to  February  9,  Edinburgh], — Retain  my  purpose, 
however,  and  set  out  for  Edinburgh  alone — that  is,  no  one  but  my 
servant.  The  snow  became  impassable,  and  in  Edinburgh  I  remain 
immovably  fixed  for  ten  days — that  is,  till  Wednesday — never  once 
getting  out  of  doors,  save  to  dinner,  when  I  went  and  returned  in  a 
sedan  chair.  1  commenced  my  quarantine  in  Mackenzie's  Hotel," 
where  I  was  deadly  cold,  and  it  was  tolerably  noisy.  The  second  day 
Mr.  Cadell  made  a  point  of  my  coming  to  his  excellent  house,  where 
I  had  no  less  excellent  an  apartment  and  the  most  kind  treatment — 
that  is,  not  making  a  show  of  me,  for  which  I  was  in  but  bad  tune.3 
The  physical  folks,  Abercrombie  and  Ross,  bled  me  with  cupping- 
glasses,  purged  me  confoundedly,  and  restricted  me  of  all  creature 
comforts.  But  they  did  me  good,  as  I  am  sure  they  meant  to  do 
sincerely  ;  and  I  got  rid  of  a  giddy  feeling,  which  I  have  been  plagued 
with,  and  have  certainly  returned  much  better.  I  did  not  neglect 
my  testamentary  affairs.  I  executed  my  last  will,  leaving  Walter 

i  1  Henry  VI. ,  Act  n.  Sc.  3.  one  of  the  chapters  already  finished,  he  looked 
*  No.  1  Custle  Street.  out  for  a  moment  at  the  gloomy  weather,  and 
3  "His  host  perceived  that  he  was  unfit  for  penned  these  lines — 
any  company  but  the  quietest,  and  had  some- 
times one  Old  friend,  Mr.  Thomson,  Mr.  Clerk,  .The  storm  increases—  'ti»  no  sunny  shower, 
or    Mr.    Skene    to    dinner,    but    no    more.      He  Foster'd  in  the  moist  breast  of  March  or  April, 

seemed  glad  to  see  them,  but  they  all  observed  Or  such  as  parched  summer  cools  his  lips  with. 

him  with  pain.     He  never  took  the  lead  in  ^flSfT^^Sf^^S^      "' 

conversation,  and  often  remained  altogether  si-  on  comes  the  flood  in  all  iu  foaming  horrors, 

lent.    In  the  mornings  he  wrote  usually  for  And  where's  the  dyke  shall  stop  it!1" 

several  hours  at  Count  Robert;  and  Mr.  Cadell  -Tltl  Dtiugt-a  Potm, 

remembers  in  particular,  that  on  Ballantyne's 

reminding  him  that  a  motto  was  wanted  for  —Life,  vol.  x.  p.  37. 


520  JOURNAL  [JAN.  1831. 

burdened,  by  his  own  choice,  with  £1000  to  Sophia,  and  another  re- 
ceived at  her  marriage,  and  £2000  to  Anne,  and  the  same  to  Charles. 
He  is  to  advance  them  money  if  they  want  it ;  if  not,  to  pay  them  in- 
terest, which  is  his  own  choice,  otherwise  I  would  have  sold  the  books 
and  rattletraps.  I  have  made  provisions  for  clearing  my  estate  by  my 
publications,  should  it  be  possible ;  and  should  that  prove  possible, 
from  the  time  of  such  clearance  being  effected,  to  be  a  fund  available 
to  all  my  children  who  shall  be  alive  or  leave  representatives.  My  be- 
quests must,  many  of  them,  seem  hypothetical ;  but  the  thing,  being 
uncertain,  must  be  so  stated. 

Besides,  during  the  unexpected  stay  in  town,  I  employed  Mr. 
Fortune,  an  ingenious  artist,1  to  make  a  machine  to  assist  my  hunt- 
leg, — an  odd  enough  purchase  to  be  made  at  this  time  of  day,  yet 
who  would  not  purchase  ease?  I  dined  with  the  Lord  Chief  Com- 
missioner, with  the  Skenes  twice,  with  Lord  Medwyn,  and  was  as 
happy  as  anxiety  about  my  daughter  would  permit  me. 

The  appearance  of  the  streets  was  most  desolate :  the  hackney- 
coaches,  with  four  horses,  strolling  about  like  ghosts,  the  foot-passen- 
gers few  but  the  lowest  of  the  people. 

I  wrote  a  good  deal  of  Count  Robert,  yet  I  cannot  tell  why  my 
pen  stammers  egregiously,  and  I  write  horridly  incorrect.  I  long  to 
have  friend  Laidlaw's  assistance. 

1  A  skilful  mechanist,  who,  by  a  clever'piece  of  handiwork,  gave  Sir  Walter  great  relief,  but 
only  for  a  brief  period.—  Life,  vol.  x.  p.  38, 


FEBRUARY 

February  9,  [Abbotsforcf]. — A  heavy  and  most  effective  thaw  com- 
ing on  I  got  home  about  five  at  night,  and  found  the  haugh  covered 
with  water,  dogs,  pigs,  cows,  to  say  nothing  of  human  beings,  all  who 
slept  at  the  offices  in  danger  of  being  drowned.  They  came  up  to 
the  mansion-house^about  midnight,  with  such  various  clamour,  that 
Anne  thought  the  house  was  attacked  by  Captain  Swing  and  all  the 
Radicals. 

February  10. — I  set  to  work  with  Mr.  Laidlaw,  and  had  after  that 
a  capital  ride  ;  my  pony,  little  used,  was  somewhat  frisky,  but  I  rode 
on  to  Huutly  Burn.  Began  my  diet  on  my  new  regime,  and  like  it 
well,  especially  porridge  to  supper.  It  is  wonderful  how  old  tastes 
rise. 

February  11. — Wrought  again  to-day,  and  John  Swanston  walked 
with  me.  Wrote  many  letters,  and  sent  copy  to  Ballantyne.  Rode 
as  usual.  It  is  well  enough  to  ride  every  day,  but  confoundedly  tire- 
some to  write  it  down. 

February  13. — I  did  not  ask  down  Mr.  Laidlaw,  thinking  it  fair 
to  spare  his  Sunday.  I  had  a  day  of  putting  to  rights,  a  disagree- 
able work  which  must  be  done.  I  took  the  occasion  to  tell  Mr.  Ca- 
dell  that  Malachi  will  break  forth  again  ;  but  I  will  not  make  a  point 
of  it  with  him.  I  do  not  fear  there  will  be  as  many  to  strike  up  as 
to  strike  down,  and  I  have  a  strong  notion  we  may  gain  the  day.  I 
have  a  letter  from  the  Duchess  of  Wellington,  asking  a  copy  of  Mel- 
ville's Memoirs.  She  shall  have  it  if  it  were  my  last. 

February  14. — I  had  hardly  begun  my  letter  to  Mr.  Cadell  than  I 
began  also  to  "  pull  in  resolution." '  I  considered  that  I  had  no 
means  of  retreat ;  and  that  in  all  my  sober  moments,  meaning  my 
unpassionate  ones,  for  the  doctors  have  taken  from  me  the  means  of 
producing  Dutch  courage,  I  have  looked  on  political  writing  as  a 
false  step,  and  especially  now  when  I  have  a  good  deal  at  stake.  So, 
upon  the  whole,  I  cancelled  the  letter  announcing  the  publication. 
If  this  was  actually  meanness  it  is  a  foible  nobody  knows  of.  Anne 
set  off  for  Edinburgh  after  breakfast.  Poor  girl,  she  is  very  nervous. 
I  wrote  with  Mr.  L.  till  one — then  had  a  walk  till  three — then  wrote 
this  diary  till  four.  Must  try  to  get  something  for  Mr.  Laidlaw,  for 
1  am  afraid  1  am  twaddling.  I  do  not  think  my  head  is  weakened, 

«  Macbeth,  Act  v.  Sc.  6. 


522  JOURNAL  [FEB. 

but  a  strange  vacillation  makes  me  suspect.     Is  it  not  thus  that  men 
begin  to  fail,  becoming,  as  it  were,  infirm  of  purpose, 

"...  that  way  madness  lies ;  let  me  shun  that  : 
No  more  of  that .  .  ." l 

Yet,  why  be  a  child  about  it  ?  what  must  be,  will  be. 

February  15. — I  wrote  and  corrected  through  the  long  day  till 
one  o'clock;  then  rode  out  as  far  as  Dr.  Scott's,  and  called  on  him. 
Got  a  fresh  dose  of  proofs  at  Mathieson's,  and  returned  home.  At 
nine  o'clock  at  night  had  a  card  from  Miss  Bell  [Maclachlan],  wish- 
ing to  speak  to  me  about  some  Highland  music.  Wrote  for  answer 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  but  would  be  happy  to  see  Mrs.  and 
Miss  Bell  to  breakfast.  I  had  a  letter  of  introduction  by  Robert 
Chambers,  which  I  declined,  being  then  unwell.  But  as  Trotter  of 
Braid  said,  "  The  ladies  maun  come." 

February  16. — Mrs.  and  Miss  Bell  Maclachlan  of  the  West  High- 
lands, mother  and  daughter,  made  their  way  to  me  to  breakfast.  L 
did  not  wish  to  see  them,  being  strangers ;  but  she  is  very  pretty- 
that  is,  the  daughter — and  enthusiastic,  and  that  is  always  flattering 
to  an  old  gentleman.  She  wishes  to  have  words  to  Celtic  melodies, 
and  I  have  promised  her  some,  to  the  air  of  Crochallan,  and  incline 
to  do  her  good,  perhaps,  to  the  extent  of  getting  her  words  from 
Lord  Francis  Leveson  Gower,  Lockhart,  and  one  or  two  others.  \Vc 
parted,  she  pleased  with  my  willing  patronage,  and  I  with  an  uncom- 
mon handsome  countenance  she  showed  me. 

This  detained  Mr.  Laidlaw  re  infecta,  and  before  I  had  written  a 
page  the  pony  came  to  the  door ;  but  wrote  something  after  dinner. 

February  17  and  18. — We  had  the  usual  course  of  food,  study, 
and  exercise  in  the  forenoon.  Was  extremely  sleepy  in  the  after- 
noon, which  made,  I  fear,  but  bad  work.  We  progress,  however.  In 
riding  met  Sir  Adam  Ferguson,  and  asked  him  and  his  brother  the 
Colonel  to  dinner  to-morrow.  Wrote  in  the  meantime  as  usual. 

February  19. — Plagued  by  the  stay  for  leg  starting  a  screw  bolt, 
which  is  very  inconvenient.  Sent  off,  this  morning,  proofs  as  far  as 
end  of  first  volume,  and  20  manuscript  pages,  equal  to  about  a  quar- 
ter of  the  second.  Is  it  good  or  not  ?  I  cannot  say.  I  think  it  better 
as  it  goes  on ;  and  so  far  so  good.  I  am  certain  I  have  written  worse 
abomination,  as  John  Ballantyne,  poor  fellow,  used  to  say. 

February  20. — Wrote  five  pages  this  morning ;  then  rode  out  to 
the  hill  and  looked  at  some  newly  planted,  rather  transplanted,  trees. 
Mr.  Laidlaw  gone  for  the  day.  I  trust  I  shall  have  proofs  to  correct. 
In  the  meantime  I  may  suck  my  paws  and  prepare  some  copy,  or 
rather  assemble  the  raw  material. 

February  21. — I  made  up  parcels  by  mail-coach  and  Blucher  to 

i  Lear,  Act  in.  Sc,  4. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  523 

go  to-morrow — second  volume  Redgauntlet.  At  one  fetched  a  walk 
through  wet  and  dry,  looking  at  the  ravages  of  the  late  flood.  After 
I  came  in,  till  two  hours  after  tea-time,  busied  with  the  Sheriff  Court 
processes,  which  I  have  nearly  finished.  After  this  I  will  lounge  over 
my  annotating.  The  Tales  of  the  Crusades  come  next. 

February  22. — Wrought  with  Mr.  L.  from  ten  to  three,  then  took 
the  pony  carriage,  with  the  purpose  of  going  to  Chiefswood,  but  a 
heavy  squall  came  on  with  snow,  so  we  put  about-ship  and  returned. 
Read  Lyttelton's  History  of  England  to  get  some  notes  for  Crusaders, 
vol.  i.  After  dinner  Mr.  Laidlaw  from  six  to  eight.  Sent  off  sir 
pages. 

February  23,  24,  25. — These  three  days  I  can  hardly  be  said  to 
have  varied  from  my  ordinary. 

Rose  at  seven,  dressed  before  eight,  wrote  letters,  or  did  any  little 
business  till  a  quarter  past  nine.  Then  breakfast.  Mr.  Laidlaw  comes 
from  ten  till  one.  Then  take  the  pony,  and  ride  quantum  mutatu& 
two  or  three  miles,  John  Swanston  walking  by  my  bridle-rein  lest  I 
fall  off.  Come  home  about  three  or  four.  Then  to  dinner  on  a  sin- 
gle plain  dish  and  half  a  tumbler,  or  by'r  lady  three-fourths  of  a  tum- 
bler, of  whisky  and  water.  Then  sit  till  six  o'clock,  when  enter  Mr. 
Laidlaw  again,  and  work  commonly  till  eight.  After  this,  work  usual- 
ly alone  till  half -past  nine,  then  sup  on  porridge  and  milk,  and  so  tc 
bed.  The  work  is  half  done.  If  any  [one]  asks  what  time  I  take  to 
think  on  the  composition,  I  might  say,  in  one  point  of  view,  it  was 
seldom  five  minutes  out  of  my  head  the  whole  day.  In  another  light, 
it  was  never  the  serious  subject  of  consideration  at  all,  for  it  never 
occupied  my  thoughts  entirely  for  five  minutes  together,  except  when 
I  was  dictating  to  Mr.  Laidlaw. 

February  26. — Went  through  the  same  routine,  only,  being  Satur- 
day, Mr.  Laidlaw  does  not  come  in  the  evening.  I  think  there  is 
truth  in  the  well-known  phrase,  Aurora  musis  arnica.  I  always  have 
a  visit  of  invention  between  six  and  seven — that  is,  if  anything  has 
been  plaguing  me,  in  the  way  of  explanation,  I  find  it  in  my  head 
when  I  wake.  I  have  need  of  it,  to-night. 

February  27. — Being  Saturday,  no  Mr.  Laidlaw  came  yesterday 
evening,  nor  to-day,  being  Sunday.  Truth  is,  I  begin  to  fear  I  was 
working  too  hard,  and  gave  myself  to  putting  things  in  order,  and 
working  at  the  Magnum,  and  reading  stupid  German  novels  in 
hopes  a  thought  will  strike  me  when  I  am  half  occupied  with 
other  things.  In  fact,  I  am  like  the  servant  in  the  Clandestine  Mar- 
riage? who  assures  his  mistress  he  always  watches  best  with  his 
eyes  shut. 

February  28. — Past  ten,  and  Mr.  Laidlaw,  the  model  of  a  clerk  in 
other  respects,  is  not  come  yet.  He  has  never  known  the  value  of 
time,  so  is  not  quite  accurate  in  punctuality  ;  but  that,  I  hope,  will 

»  Colman  the  elder. 


524  JOURNAL  [FEB.  1831. 

come  if  I  can  drill  him  to  it  without  hurting  him.  I  think  I  hear 
him  coming.  I  am  like  the  poor  wizard  who  is  first  puzzled  how  to 
raise  the  devil  and  then  how  to  employ  him.  But  vogue  la  galere. 
Worked  till  one,  then  walked  with  great  difficulty  and  pain  till  half- 
past  two.  I  think  I  can  hardly  stir  without  my  pony,  which  is  a  sad 
pity.  Mr.  Laidlaw  dines  here. 


MARCH 

March  1,  2,  3. — All  these  three  days  I  wrote  forenoon  and  fagged 
afternoon.  Kept  up  the  ball  indifferent  well,  but  began  to  tire  on 
the  third,  and  suspected  that  I  was  flat — a  dreary  suspicion,  not  easi- 
ly chased  away  when  once  it  takes  root. 

March  4. — Laid  aside  the  novel,  and  began  with  vigour  a  review 
of  Robson's  Essay  on  Heraldry;1  but  I  missed  some  quotations 
which  I  could  not  get  on  without.  I  gave  up,  and  took  such  a  rash 
ride  nowadays.  Returned  home,  and  found  Colonel  Russell  there  on 
a  visit.  Then  we  had  dinner,  and  afterwards  the  making  up  this 
miserable  Journal. 

March  5. — I  have  a  letter  from  our  member,  Whytbank,  adjuring 
me  to  assist  the  gentlemen  of  the  county  with  an  address  against  the 
Reform  Bill,  which  menaces  them  with  being  blended  with  Peebles- 
shire,  and  losing  of  consequence  one  half  of  their  franchise.  Mr. 
Pringlc  conjures  me  not  to  be  very  nice  in  choosing  my  epithets. 
Mr.  Pringle,  Torwoodlee,  comes  over  and  speaks  to  the  same  pur- 
pose, adding,  it  will  be  the  greatest  service  I  can  do  the  county,  etc. 
This,  in  a  manner,  drives  me  out  of  a  resolution  to  keep  myself  clear 
of  politics,  and  "  let  them  fight  dog,  fight  bear."  But  I  am  too  easy 
to  be  persuaded  to  bear  a  hand.  The  young  Duke  of  Buccleuch 
comes  to  visit  me  also ;  so  I  promised  to  shake  my  duds  and  give 
them  a  cast  of  my  calling,  fall  back,  fall  edge. 

March  7-10. — In  these  four  days  I  drew  up,  with  much  anxiety, 
an  address  reprobatory  of  the  Bill,  both  with  respect  to  Selkirkshire, 
and  in  its  general  purport.  I  was  not  mealy-mouthed,  and  those  who 
heard  the  beginning  could  hardly  avoid  listening  to  the  end.  It  was 
certainly  in  my  best  style,  and  would  have  made  a  deal  of  noise. 
From  the  uncompromising  style  it  would  have  attracted  attention. 
Mr.  Laidlaw,  though  he  is  on  t'other  side  on  the  subject,  thinks  it  the 
best  thing  I  ever  wrote ;  and  I  myself  am  happy  to  find  that  it  can- 
not be  said  to  smell  of  the  apoplexy.  The  pointed  passages  were, 
on  the  contrary,  clever  and  well  put.  But  it  was  too  declamatory, 
too  much  like  a  pamphlet,  and  went  far  too  generally  into  opposition 
to  please  the  country  gentlemen,  who  are  timidly  inclined  to  dwell 
on  their  own  grievances  rather  than  the  public  wrongs. 

March  11. — This  day  we  had  our  meeting  at  Selkirk.     I  found 

>  The  British  Herald,  by  Thomas  Robson,  3  vols.  4to,  1830.     Sir.  Lockhart  says  this  review 
nerer  was  published. 


526 


JOURNAL 


[MARCH 


Borthwickbrae  (late  member)  had  sent  the  form  of  an  address,  which 
was  finished  by  Mr.  Andrew  Lang.'  It  was  the  reverse  of  mine  in 
every  respect.  It  was  short,  and  to  the  point.  It  only  contained  a 
remonstrance  against  the  incorporation  with  [Peeblesjshire,  and  left 
it  to  be  inferred  that  they  approved  the.  Bill  in  other  respects.11  As 
I  saw  that  it  met  the  ideas  of  the  meeting  (six  in  number)  better  by 
far  than  such  an  address  as  mine,  I  instantly  put  it  in  my  pocket. 
But  I  endeavoured  to  add  to  their  complaint  of  a  private  wrong  a 
general  clause,  stating  their  sense  of  the  hazard  of  passing  a  Bill  full 
of  such  violent  innovations  at  once  on  the  public.  But  though  Har- 
den, Alva,  and  Torwoodlee  voted  for  this  measure,  it  was  refused  by 
the  rest  of  the  meeting,  to  my  disappointment ;  since  in  its  present 
state  it  will  not  be  attended  to,  and  is  in  fact  too  milk-and-water  to 
attract  notice.  I  am,  however,  personally  out  of  the  scrape ;  I  was  a 
fool  to  stir  such  a  mess  of  skimmed  milk  with  so  honourable  an  ac- 
tion.8 If  some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  press  get  hold  of  this  story, 
what  would  they  make  of  it,  and  how  little  would  I  care !  One  thing 
is  clear :  it  gives  me  a  right  to  decline  future  interference,  and  let 
the  world  wag,  Sessa.* 

March  12. — Wrote  the  history  of  my  four  days'  labour  in  vain  to 
Sandy  Pringle,  Whytbank,  and  so  transeat  with  coeteris  erroribus.  I 
only  gave  way  to  one  jest.  A  rat-catcher  was  desirous  to  come  and 
complete  his  labours  in  my  house,  and  I,  who  thought  he  only  talked 
and  laughed  with  the  servants,  recommended  him  to  go  to  the  head 
courts  and  meetings  of  freeholders,  where  he  would  find  rats  in 
plenty. 

March  13. — I  have  finally  arranged  a  thorny  transaction.  Mr. 
Cadell  has  an  interest  in  some  of  the  Novels,  amounting  to  one-half ; 
but  the  following  are  entirely  my  own,  viz. : — 


St.  Ronan's  Well 3  vols. 

Tales  of  Crusaders 4    " 

First  Chronicles 2    " 

Anne  of  Geierstein . .          .  3    " 


Redgauntlet 3  vols. 

Woodstock 3     " 

Second  Chronicles 3     " 

Count  Robert. .  .   3     " 


In  all,  twenty-four  volumes,  which  will  begin  printing  after  Quentin 
Durward,  and  concludes  the  year  1831.  For  half  the  property  he 
proposes  to  pay  6000  guineas  on  2d  February  1831  [1832  ?].  I  think 
that  with  this  sum,  and  others  coming  in,  I  may  reduce  the  debt  to 
£45,000. 

But  I  do  not  see  clearly  enough  through  this  affair  to  accept  this 
offer,     first,  I  cannot  see  that  there   is  wisdom  in  engaging  Mr. 


i  Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  Sheriff  and  Commissary 
Clerk,  and  Clerk  of  Peace,  for  Selkirkshire, 
grandfather  of  Sir.  Andrew  Lang,  the  accom- 
plished poet  and  man  of  letters  of  the  present 
time.  The  tact  and  ability  of  the  grandfather 
are  noticed  by  Sir  Walter  in  his  letter  to  Lord 


Montagu  of  Oct.  3, 1819,  describing  Prince  Leo- 
pold at  Selkirk.—  Lift:,  vol.  vi.  p.  131. 

a  This  proposal,  resisted  successfully  in  1832, 
has  since  been  put  iu  force  so  far  as  Parliament 
is  concerned. 

3  1  Henry  IV.,  Act  n.  Sc.  3. 

4  Taming  qfthe  Shrew,  In  trod. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  527 

Cadell  in  deep  speculations,  unless  they  served  him  very  much.  I  am, 
in  this  respect,  a  burnt  child :  I  have  not  forgotten  the  fire,  or  rather 
the  furnace.  Second,  I  think  the  property  worth  more,  if  publicly 
sold.  Third,  I  cannot  see  any  reasons  which  should  render  it  advan- 
tageous for  me  to  sell  one  half  of  this  property,  it  being  admittedly  at 
the  same  [time]  highly  judicious  to  keep  the  other  half.  This  does 
not  fadge.  Fourth,  As  to  the  immediate  command  of  the  money,  I 
am  not  pressed  for  it,  not  having  any  advantage  by  paying  it  a  year 
or  two  sooner  or  later.  The  actual  proceeds  of  the  sales  will  come 
in  about  1834,  and  I  daresay  will  not  be  far  behind  in  amount  the 
sum  of  £6000. 

In  short,  I  will  not  sell  on  a  rainy  day.  as  our  proverb  says.  I 
have  communicated  my  resolution  to  Cadell,  to  whom,  no  doubt,  it 
will  be  a  disappointment,  for  which  I  am  sorry,  but  cannot  help  it. 

March  14. — Had  a  very  sensible  and  good-humoured  answer  from 
Mr.  Cadell,  readily  submitting  to  my  decision.  He  mentions,  what  I 
am  conscious  of,  the  great  ease  of  accomplishing,  if  the  whole  is  di- 
vided into  two  halves.  But  this  is  not  an  advantage  to  me,  but  to 
them  who  keep  the  books,  and  therefore  I  cannot  be  moved  by  it.  It 
is  the  great  advantage  of  uniformity,  of  which  Malachi  Malagrowther 
tells  so  much.  I  do  not  fear  that  Mr.  Cadell  will  neglect  the  concern 
because  he  has  not  the  large  share  in  it  which  he  had  in  the  other. 
He  is,  I  think,  too  honest  a  man.  He  has  always  shown  himself 
every  way  willing  and  ready  to  help  me,  and  verily  he  hath  his  re- 
ward ;  and  I  can  afford  him  on  that  property  a  handsome  percentage 
for  the  management.  But  if  his  fate  was  to  lose  considerably  by  this 
transaction,  I  must  necessarily  be  a  sufferer ;  if  he  be  a  great  gainer, 
it  is  at  my  expense,  so  it  is  like  the  children's  game  of  "  Odds  I  win, 
evens  you  lose  " — so  will  say  no  more  about  it.  I  think  I  will  keep 
my  ground  nearly,  so  these  cursed  politics  do  not  ruin  the  country.  I 
am  unable  to  sit  at  good  men's  boards,  and  Anne  has  gone  to  Mer- 
toun  to-day  without  me.  I  cannot  walk  or  ride  but  for  a  mile  or  two. 
Naboclish !  never  mind.  I  am  satisfied  that  I  am  heart-whole  as  a 
biscuit,  and  I  may  live  to  see  the  end  of  those  affairs  yet.  I  am 
driving  on  the  Count  of  Paris  right  merrily.  I  have  plenty  of  leisure, 
and  vive  la  plume  !  I  have  arranged  matters  as  I  think  for  the  best, 
so  will  think  no  more  about  it. 

March  16. — The  affair  with  Mr.  Cadell  being  settled,  I  have  only 
to  arrange  a  set  of  regular  employment  for  my  time,  without  over- 
fatiguing  myself.  What  I  at  present  practise  seems  active  enough 
for  my  capacity,  and  even  if  I  should  reach  the  threescore  and  ten, 
from  which  I  am  thrice  three  years  distant,  or  nearer  ten,  the  thm: 
may  pass  honourably,  usefully,  and  profitably,  both  to  myself  and 
other  people.  My  ordinary  runs  thus: — Rise  at  a  quarter  before 
seven  ;  at  a  quarter  after  nine  breakfast,  with  eggs,  or  in  the  singular 
number,  at  least ;  before  breakfast  private  letters,  etc. ;  after  break- 
fast Mr.  Laidlaw  comes  at  ten,  and  we  write  together  till  one.  I  am 


528  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

greatly  helped  by  this  excellent  man,  who  takes  pains  to  write  a  good 
hand,  and  supplies  the  want  of  my  own  fingers  as  far  as  another  per- 
son can.  We  work  seriously  at  the  task  of  the  day  till  one  o'clock, 
when  I  sometimes  walk — not  often,  however,  having  failed  in 
strength,  and  suffering  great  pain  even  from  a  very  short  walk.  Of  t- 
ener  I  take  the  pony  for  an  hour  or  two  and  ride  about  the  doors ; 
the  exercise  is  humbling  enough,  for  I  require  to  be  lifted  on  horse- 
back by  two  servants,  and  one  goes  with  me  to  take  care  I  do  not 
fall  off  and  break  my  bones,  a  catastrophe  very  like  to  happen.  My 
proud  promenade  a  pied  or  a  cheval,  as  it  happens,  concludes  by 
three  o'clock.  An  hour  intervenes  for  making  up  my  Journal  and 
such  light  work.  At  four  comes  dinner, — a  plate  of  broth  or  soup, 
much  condemned  by  the  doctors,  a  bit  of  plain  meat,  no  liquors 
stronger  than  small  beer,  and  so  I  sit  quiet  to  six  o'clock,  when  Mr. 
Laidlaw  returns,  and  remains  with  me  till  nine  or  three  quarters  past, 
as  it  happens.  Then  I  have  a  bowl  of  porridge  and  milk,  which  I 
eat  with  the  appetite  of  a  child.  I  forgot  to  say  that  after  dinner  I 
am  allowed  half  a  glass  of  whisky  or  gin  made  into  weak  grog.  I 
never  wish  for  any  more,  nor  do  I  in  my  secret  soul  long  for  cigars, 
though  once  so  fond  of  them.  About  six  hours  per  day  is  good 
working,  if  I  can  keep  at  it. 

March  17. — Little  of  this  day,  but  that  it  was  so  uncommonly 
windy  that  I  was  almost  blown  off  my  pony,  and  was  glad  to  grasp  the 
mane  to  prevent  its  actually  happening.  Rode  round  by  Brigends. 
I  began  the  third  volume  of  Count  Robert  of  Paris,  which  has  been 
on  the  anvil  during  all  these  vexatious  circumstances  of  politics  and 
health.  But  "  the  blue  heaven  bends  over  all."  It  may  be  ended  in 
a  fortnight  if  I  keep  my  scheme.  But  I  will  take  time  enough. 
This  would  be  on  Thursday.  I  would  like  it  much. 

March  18. — We  get  well  on.  Count  Robert  is  finished  so  far  as 
the  second  goes,  and  some  twenty  [pages]  of  the  third.  Blackwo<"l's 
Magazine,  after  long  bedaubing  me  with  compliment,  has  began  to 
bedaub  Lockhart  for  my  sake,  or  perhaps  me  for  Lockhart's  sake, 
with  abuse.  Lockhart's  chief  offence  seems  to  have  been  explaining 
the  humbug  of  showing  up  Hogg  as  a  fool  and  blackguard  in  what 
he  calls  the  Noctes.1  For  me  I  care  wonderfully  little  either  for  his 
flattery  or  his  abuse.5 

• 

i  As  this  is  the  last  reference  to  the  Ettrick  chance  for  comfort  if  he  will  use  common  sense 

Shepherd  in  the  Journal,  it  may  be  noted  that  with  his  very  considerable  genius." 
Sir  Walter,  as  late  as  March  23d,  1832,  was  still 

desirous  to  promote  Hogg's  welfare.    In  writ-  3  This  expression  of  irritation  can  easily  be 

ing  from  Naples  he  says,  in  reference  to  the  understood  after  reading  the  passages  referred 

Shepherd's  social  success  in  London,  "I  am  to  in  the  twenty-ninth  volume  of  Blackwood's 

glad  Hogg  has  succeeded  so  well.     I  hope  he  Magazine,  pp.  30-35,  and  535-544.     Readers  of 

will  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines;  but  he  this  Journal  have  seen  what  uphill  work  these 

must  be  aware  that  the  Lion  of  this  season  al-  "Letters  on  Demonolpgy"  were  to  the  author, 

ways  becomes  the  Boar  of  the  next.  ...  I  will  but  the  unsparing  criticism  of  Christopher  Norlk 

subscribe  the  proper  sum,  i.e.  what  you  think  must  have  appeared  to  the  author  as  a  very 

right,  for  Hogg,  by  all  means;  and  I  pray  God,  unfriendly  act,  more  especially,  he  thought,  if 

keep  farms  and  other  absurd  temptations  likely  the  critic  really  knew  the  conditions  under 

to  beset  him  out  of  his  way.    He  has  another  which  the  book  had  been  written. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  529 

March  19.  —  I  made  a  hard  working  day  —  almost  equal  to  twenty 
pages,  but  there  was  some  reason  for  it,  for  Ballantyne  writes  me  that 
the  copy  sent  will  not  exceed  265  pages  when  the  end  of  volume  ii. 
is  reached  ;  so  45  more  pages  must  be  furnished  to  run  it  out  to  page 
329.  This  is  an  awful  cast  back  ;  so  the  gap  is  to  be  made  up. 

March  20.  —  I  thought  I  was  done  with  politics,  but  it  is  easy  get- 
ting into  the  mess,  and  difficult  and  sometimes  disgraceful,  to  get  out. 
I  have  a  letter  from  Sheriff  Oliver,  desiring  me  to  go  [to  Jedburgh] 
on  Monday  (to-morrow)  and  show  countenance  by  adhering  to  a  set 
of  propositions,  being  a  resolution.  Though  not  well  drawn,  they  are 
uncompromising  enough  ;  so  I  will  not  part  company.  Had  a  letter, 
too,  from  Henry  Scott.  He  still  expects  to  refuse  the  Bill.  I  wrote 
him  that  would  but  postpone  the  evil  day,  unless  they  could  bring 
forward  a  strong  Administration,  and,  what  is  most  essential,  a  sys- 
tem of  finance  ;  otherwise  it  won't  do.  Henry  has  also  applied  to 
me  for  the  rejected  address.  But  this  I  shall  decline. 

March  22.  —  Went  to-day  at  nine  o'clock  to  the  meeting.  A  great 
number  present,  with  a  tribune  full  of  Reformers,  who  showed  their 
sense  of  propriety  by  hissing,  hooting,  and  making  all  sorts  of  noises  ; 
and  these  unwashed  artificers  are  from  henceforth  to  select  our  legis- 
lators. There  was  some  speaking,  but  not  good.  I  said  something, 
for  I  could  not  sit  quiet.1 

We  did  not  get  home  till  about  nine,  having  fasted  the  whole 
time.  James,  the  blockhead,  lost  my  poor  Spice,  a  favourite  terrier. 
The  fool  shut  her  in  a  stable,  and  somebody,  [he]  says,  opened  the 
door  and  let  her  out.  I  suspect  she  is  lost  for  aye,  for  she  was  car- 
ried to  Jedburgh  in  a  post-chaise. 

March  23.  —  The  measure  carried  by  a  single  vote.1  In  other  cir- 
cumstances one  would  hope  for  the  interference  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  but  it  is  all  hab-nab  at  a  venture.  The  worst  is  that  there  is 
a  popular  party  who  want  personal  power,  and  are  highly  unfitted  to 
enjoy  it.  It  has  fallen  easily,  the  old  Constitution  ;  no  bullying 
Mirabeau  to  assail,  no  eloquent  Maury  to  defend.  It  has  been 
thrown  away  like  a  child's  broken  toy.  Well  trained,  the  good 
sense  of  the  people  is  much  trusted  to  ;  we  will  see  what  it  will  do 
for  us.3 

The  curse  of  Cromwell  on  those  whose  conceit  brought  us  to  this 
pass.  Sed  transeat.  It  is  vain  to  mourn  what  cannot  be  mended. 

March  24.  —  Frank  Grant  and  his  lady  came  here.  Frank  will,  I 
believe,  and  if  he  attends  to  his  profession,  be  one  of  the  celebrated 

1  Mr.  Lockhart  says  :  —  "  He  proposed  one  of  writes  him  from  London  on  February  14:  — 

the  Tory  resolutions  in  a  speech  of  some  length,  "  What  a  singular  feeling  it  was  to  me  to  find 

but  delivered  in  a  tone  so  low.  and  with  such  Brougham  Lord  Chancellor,  and  Jeffrey  and 

hesitation  in  utterance,  that  only  a  few  de-  Cockburn   in  their  present  stations!     I  am 

tached  passages  were  intelligible  to  the  bulk  afraid  that  the  spirit  of  reform  goes  at  pres- 

of  the  audience."  —  See  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  46-8.  ent  beyond  the  limits  to  which  even  the  Gov- 


.  The  passing  of  the  great  RefonT  .Bill  in  the 

House  of  Commons  on  the  22d  March.  pervades  the  country,  I  should  tremble  for  the 

s  His  friend  Richardson,  who  was  a  Whig.       future." 

34 


530  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

men  of  the  age.  He  is  well  known  to  me  as  the  companion  of  my 
sons  and  the  partner  of  my  daughters.  In  youth,  that  is  in  extreme 
youth,  he  was  passionately  fond  of  fox.-hunting  and  other  sports,  but 
not  of  any  species  of  gambling.  He  had  also  a  strong  passion  for 
painting,  and  made  a  little  collection.  As  he  had  sense  enough  to 
feel  that  a  younger  brother's  fortune  would  not  last  long  under  the 
expenses  of  a  good  stud  and  a  rare  collection  of  chef-d'oeuvres,  he  used 
to  avow  his  intention  to  spend  his  patrimony,  about  £10,000,  and 
then  again  to  make  his  fortune  by  the  law.  The  first  he  soon  accom- 
plished. But  the  law  is  not  a  profession  so  easily  acquired,  nor  did 
Frank's  talents  lie  in  that  direction.  His  passion  for  painting  turned 
out  better.  Nature  had  given  him  the  rare  power  of  judging  sound- 
ly of  painting,  and  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  power  of  imitating  it. 
Connoisseurs  approved  of  his  sketches,  both  in  pencil  and  oils,  but 
knot  without  the  sort  of  criticisms  made  on  these  occasions — that  they 
were  admirable  for  an  amateur ;  but  it  could  not  be  expected  that  he 
should  submit  to  the  technical  drudgery  absolutely  necessary  for  a 
profession,  and  all  that  species  of  criticism  which  gives  way  before 
natural  genius  and  energy  of  character. 

Meantime  Frank  Grant,  who  was  remarkably  handsome,  and  very 
much  the  man  of  fashion,  married  a  young  lady  with  many  possibil- 
ities, as  Sir  Hugh  Evans  says.1  She  was  eldest  sister  of  Farquharson 
of  Invercauld,  chief  of  that  clan ;  and  the  young  man  himself  having 
been  almost  paralysed  by  the  malaria  in  Italy,  Frank's  little  boy  by 
this  match  becomes  heir  to  the  estate  and  chieftainship.  In  the  mean- 
time fate  had  another  chance  for  him  in  the  matrimonial  line.  At 
Melton-Mowbray,  during  the  hunting  season,  he  had  become  acquaint- 
ed (even  before  his  first  marriage)  with  a  niece  of  the  Duke  of  Rut- 
land, a  beautiful  and  fashionable  young  woman,  with  whom  he  was 
now  thrown  into  company  once  more.  It  was  a  natural  consequence 
that  they  should  marry.  The  lady  had  not  much  wealth,  but  excel- 
lent connections  in  society,  to  whom  Grant's  good  looks  and  good 
breeding  made  him  very  acceptable. 

March  25. — In  the  meantime  Frank  saw  the  necessity  of  doing 
something  to  keep  himself  independent,  having,  I  think,  too  miu-h 
spirit  to  become  a  Stulko,*  drinking  out  the  last  glass  of  the  bottle, 
riding  the  horses  which  the  laird  wishes  to  sell,  and  drawing  sketches 
to  amuse  the  lady  and  the  children, — besides  a  prospect  on  Invcrcauld 
elevating  him,  when  realised,  to  the  rank  of  the  laird's  father. 

March  26. — Grant  was  above  all  this,  and  honourably  and  man- 
fully resolved  to  cultivate  his  taste  for  painting,  and  become  a  pro- 
fessional artist.  I  am  no  judge  of  painting,  but  I  am  conscious  that 
Francis  Grant  possesses,  with  much  taste,  a  sense  of  beauty  derived 
from  the  best  source,  that  of  really  good  society,  while  in  many  mod- 
ern artists,  the  total  want  of  that  species  of  feeling  is  so  great  as  to 

'  Merry  Wives,  Act  i.  Sc.  1.  formerly  in  common  use  among  the  Irish,  sig- 

*  Stulko  orStulk  (VStocaire,  in  Irish),  a  word      nifying  an  idle,  lazy,  good-for-nothing  fellow. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  531 

be  revolting.  His  former  acquaintances  render  his  immediate  en- 
trance into  business  completely  secure,  and  it  will  rest  with  himself 
to  carry  on  his  success.  He^has,  I  think,  that  degree  of  energy  and 
force  of  character  which  will  make  him  keep  and  enlarge  any  reputa- 
tion which  he  may  acquire.  He  has  confidence  too  in  his  own  pow- 
ers, always  a  requisite  for  a  young  painter  whose  aristocratic  preten- 
sions must  be  envied  by  [his  less  fortunate  brethren]. 

March  27. — Frank  Grant  is  still  with  me,  and  is  well  pleased — I 
think  very  deservedly  so — with  a  cabinet  picture  of  myself,  armour, 
and  so  forth,  together  with  my  two  noble  staghounds  of  the  greyhound 
race.  I  wish  Cadell  had  got  it ;  it  is  far  better  than  Watson's — though 
his  is  well  too.  The  dogs  sat  charmingly,  but  the  picture  took  up 
some  time.1 

March  28. — We  went  out  a  little  ride.  The  weather  most  tempt- 
ing, the  day  beautiful.  We  rode  and  walked  a  little. 

March  29. — We  had  an  hour's  sitting  of  the  dogs,  and  a  good  deal 
of  success.  I  cannot  compose  my  mind  on  this  public  measure.  It 
will  not  please  those  whom  it  is  the  object  to  please. 

March  30. — Robert  Dundas2  and  his  wife — Miss  Durham  that  was 
— came  to  spend  a  day  or  two.  I  was  heartily  glad  to  see  him,  being 
my  earliest  and  best  friend's  son.  John  Swinton  came  by  Blucher, 
on  the  part  of  an  anti-Reform  meeting  in  Edinburgh ;  exhorting  me 
to  take  up  the  pen,  but  I  declined  and  pleaded  health,  which,  God 

>  Slary  Campbell,  Lady  Ruthven,  for  whom  charity,  the  practical  application  of  which,  in 

the  picture  was  painted,  was  not  only  the  friend  her  every-day  life,  was  only  bounded  by  her 

of  Scott,  but  she  held  relations  more  or  less  means. 

close  with  nearly  every  one  famous  in  Art  and  It  was  said  of  her  by  one  who  knew  her  well — 
Literature  during  the  greater  part  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.     No  mean  artist  herself,  and  "She  lived  to  a  great  age,  dispensing  kindness  and  be- 
though,  perhaps,  not  a  clever  letter-writer,  She  Jievolonce  to  the  last  and  cheered  in  the  .ore  infirmit  M  of 

had  among  her  correspondents  some  of  the      partief  o^Tagel  ' 

most  brilliant  men  Of  her  day.      She  survived  "The  Living  Lamp  of  Lothian,  which  from  Whiton,  has 

all  her  early  friends,  but  had  the  gift  of  being        so  long  shed  its  beneficent  lustre,  has  been  extinguished, 

attractive  to  the  young,  and  for  three  genera-  |>ut  n°t  s?  "i"  .|»  jg*  *•  J™1?1.,0'?  ,°.f  the  g!ft*d. lad£ ,for 

tions  was  the  delight  of  their  children  and  %£?£££&  ^toffi&fr™*"*"  °f  "" 
grandchildren.  Those  who  were  privileged  to 

share  in  the  refined  hospitality  of  Winton,  nev-  Lady  Ruthven  prized  the  picture  referred  to. 

cr  forgot  either  the  picturesque  old  house  (the  She  would  not,  as  Sir  Francis  Grant  relates,* 

supposed  Ravenswood  Castle  of  the  Bride  of  permit  him  to  touch  the  canvas  after  it  left  the 

Lammermoor),  or  its  venerable  mistress  as  she  Abbotsford  studio:  and  it  remained  a  cherished 

sat  of  an  evening  in  her  unique  drawing-room.  possession  which  she  took  pride  in  showing  to 

the  walls  of  which  were  adorned  with  pictures  appreciative  guests,  pointing  out  the  details 

of  Grecian   temple  and  landscape,  her  own  of  face  and  form  which  she  still  saw  with  that 

handiwork  in  days  long  gone  by  when  she  was  inner  eye,  which  time  had  not  darkened, 

styled  by  her  friends  Queen  of  Athens.    Her  It  is  now  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery  of 

conversation,  after  she  was  ninety,  was  fresh  Scotland— bequeathed  to  the  nation  with  other 

and  vigorous;  and,  despite  blindness  and  im-  pictures,  as  well  as  the  magnificent  collection 

perfect  hearing,  she  kept  herself  well  acquaint-  of  Greek  archaeological  objects  gathered  by  her- 

ed  with  the  affairs  of  the  day.    The  last  great  self  and  Lord  Ruthven  in  their  early  married 

speech  in  Parliament,  or  the  newest  ban  mot,  life.     She  was  born  in  1789,  and  died  in  1885. 

were  equally  acceptable  and  equally  relished.  2  Robert  Dundas  of  Arniston,  Esq.,  the  wor- 

Her  sense  of  humour  and  fun  made  her,  at  thy  representative  of  an  illustrious  lineage, 

times,  forget  her  own  sufferings,  and  her  splen-  died  at  his  paternal  seat  in  June,  1838. — J.  G.  L. 

did  memory  enabled  her  to  while  away  many  See  Arniston  Memoirs — Three  Centuries  of  a 

a  sleepless" hour  by  repeating  long  passages  Scottish,  House,  1571-1838.     Edin.    8vo,  1887. 
from  the  Bible  or  Milton.     The  former  she  had 

so  much  in  her  heart  that  it  was  scarcely  pos-  «  ^  long  an(1  int«re«ting  letter  of  Jnne  5, 187*.  from 

sible  to  believe  she  was  not  reading  from  the  sir  Francis  to  Sir  w.  s.  Maxwell.  —  L»ing'« 

pook.    Above  all  was  her  truly  divine  gift  of  pp.  18-81- 


632  JOURNAL  [MARCH,  1831. 

knows,  I  have  a  right  to  urge.  I  might  have  urged  also  the  chance 
of  my  breaking  down,  but  there  would  be  a  cry  of  this  kind  which 
might  very  well  prove  real.  9 

March  31. — Swinton  returned  in  the  forenoon  yesterday  after 
lunch.  He  took  my  denial  very  quietly,  and  said  it  would  be  wrong 
to  press  me.  I  have  not  shunned  anything  that  came  fairly  on  me, 
but  I  do  not  see  the  sense  of  standing  forth  a  champion.  It  is  said 
that  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch  has  been  offered  the  title  of  Monmouth 
if  he  would  cease  to  oppose.  He  said  there  were  two  objections — 
they  would  not  give  it  him  if  he  seriously  thought  of  it,  and  he 
would  not  take  it  if  they  did.  The  Dundases  went  off  to-day.  I 
was  glad  I  had  seen  them,  although  visitors  rather  interrupt  work. 


APRIL 

April  2. — Mr.  Henry  Liddell,  eldest  son  of  Lord  Ravensworth,  ar- 
rived here.  I  like  him  and  his  brother  Tom  very  much.  They  are 
what  may  be  termed  fine  men.  Young  Mackenzie  of  Cromarty  came 
with  him,  who  is  a  fine  lad  and  sings  very  beautifully.  I  knew  his 
father  and  mother,  and  was  very  glad  to  see  him.  They  had  been  at 
Mertoun  fishing  salmon,  with  little  sport. 

April  3. — A  letter  from  the  Lord  Chief-Commissioner  reporting ' 
Lord  Palmerston  and  Sir  Herbert  Taylor's  letters  in  Charles's  favour. 
Wrote  a  grateful  answer,  and  resolved,  that  as  I  have  made  my 
opinion  public  at  every  place  where  I  could  be  called  on  or  expected 
to  appear,  I  will  not  throw  myself  forward  when  I  have  nothing  to 
say.  May  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us  and  incline  our  hearts  to 
keep  this  vow ! 

April  4. — Mr.  Liddell  and  Hay  Mackenzie  left  us  this  morning. 
Liddell  showed  me  yesterday  a  very  good  poem,  worthy  of  Pope  or 
Churchill,  in  old-fashioned  hexameters,  called  the  [illegible].  He  has 
promised  me  a  copy,  for  it  is  still  being  printed.  There  are  some 
characters  very  well  drawn.  The  force  of  it  belies  the  character  of  a 
Dandie,  too  hastily  ascribed  to  the  author.  He  is  accomplished  as 
an  artist  and  musician,  and  certainly  has  a  fine  taste  for  poetry, 
though  he  may  never  cultivate  it.1  He  promises  to  bring  his  lady — 
who  is  very  clever,  but  pretty  high,  they  say,  in  the  temper — to  spend 
a  day  or  two  with  us  after  leaving  Edinburgh. 

April  5. — This  fifth  day  of  April  is  the  March  fair  at  Selkirk. 
Almost  every  one  of  the  family  goes  there,  Mr.  Laidlaw  among  others. 
I  have  a  hideous  paralytic  custom  of  stuttering  with  my  pen,  and  can- 
not write  without  strange  blunders ;  yet  I  cannot  find  any  failure  in 
my  intellect.  Being  unable  to  write  to  purpose  with  my  own  hand, 
this  forenoon  was  a  sort  of  holiday  to  me.  The  third  volume  of 
Count  Robert  is  fairly  begun,  but  I  fear  I  shall  want  stuff  to  fill  it,  for 
I  would  not  willingly  bombast  it  with  things  inappropriate.  If  I  could 
fix  my  mind  to  the  task  to-day,  my  temper,  notwithstanding  my  oath, 
sets  strong  towards  politics,  where  I  would  be  sure  of  making  a 
figure,  and  feel  I  could  carry  with  me  a  great  part  of  the  middle-class, 
who  wait  for  a  shot  between  wind  and  water — half  comic,  half  se- 
rious, which  is  a  better  argument  than  most  which  are  going.  The 
regard  of  my  health  is  what  chiefly  keeps  me  in  check.  The  provok- 

1  Henry  Liddell,  second  Baron  Ravensworth,  author  of  a  translation  of  the  Odes  of  Horace,  a 
volume  of  Latin  Poems,  etc. 


534  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

ing  odium  I  should  mind  much  less;  for  there  will  always  be  as 
many  for  as  against  me,  but  it  would  be  a  foolish  thing  to  take  flight 
to  the  next  world  in  a  political  gale  of  wind.  If  Cadell  gave  me  the 
least  encouragement  I  would  give  way  to  the  temptation.  Meantime 
1  am  tugging  at  the  chain  for  very  eagerness.  I  have  done  enough 
to  incense  people  against  me,  without,  perhaps,  doing  so  much  as  I 
could,  would,  or  should  have  done. 

April  6. — I  have  written  to  Alva  and  Lord  Elgin,  explaining  why 
I  cannot,  as  they  encourage  me  to  do,  take  upon  me  the  cause  of  the 
public,  and  bell-the-cat  with  the  reformers.  I  think  I  have  done 
enough  for  an  individual. 

I  have  more  than  half  dictated  the  third  volume  to  Mr.  Laidlaw  ; 
but  I  feel  the  subject  wants  action,  and  that  a  little  repose  will  be 
very  necessary.  Resolve  to-morrow  shall  be  a  resting-day.  I  have 
not  had  one  this  long  time.  I  had  a  letter  from  Croker,  advising  a 
literary  adventure — the  personal  history  of  Charles  Edward.1  I  think 
it  will  do.  Rode  to  Melrose  and  brought  home  the  letters  from  the 
post-office. 

April  8. — I  took  leave  of  poor  Major  John  Scott,2  who,  being  af- 
flicted with  a  distressing  asthma,  has  resolved  upon  selling  his  house 
in  Ravenswood,  which  he  had  dressed  up  with  much  neatness,  and 
going  abroad  to  Jamaica.  Without  having  been  intimate  friends,  we 
were  always  affectionate  relations,  and  now  we  part,  probably  never 
to  meet  in  this  world.  He  has  a  good  deal  of  the  character  said  to 
belong  to  the  family.  Our  parting  with  mutual  feeling  may  be  easily 
supposed.  " 

April  9. — This  being  Saturday,  I  expect  the  bibliopolist  and  ty- 
pographer about  two  o'clock,  I  suppose,  when  I  shall  have  much  to 
journalise.  Failures  among  the  trade  are  alarming,  yet  not  if  we  act 
with  prudence.  Nous  verrons. 

Mr.  Cadell  and  J.  Ballantyne,  with  the  son  of  the  latter.  Their 
courage  is  much  stouter  than  I  apprehended.  Cadell  says  he  has 
lost  £1000  by  bad  debts,  which  is  less  than  he  expected,  by  bad  times 
coming  on  at  this  time.  We  have  been  obliged  to  publish  the  less 
popular  part  of  the  Waverley  Novels.  At  present  I  incline  to  draw 
a  period  after  48  volumes,  and  so  close  the  publication.  About  nine 
or  ten  volumes  will  then  conclude  our  Magnum  Opus,  so  called,  and 
Mr.  Cadell  thinks  we  shall  then  begin  the  Poetical  Works,  in  twelve 
volumes,  with  illustrations  by  Turner,  which  he  expects  to  rise  as  far 
as  12,000.  The  size  is  to  be  that  of  the  Waverley  Novels. 

April  10. — I  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Cowan,  Trustee  for  Constable's 
creditors,  telling  that  the  manuscripts  of  the  Waverley  Novels  had 

1  In  a  letter  from  Sir  Walter  to  his  son-in-  there  was  room  for  a  personal  narrative  of  the 

law,  of  April  llth,  he  says: —  character,  it  would  answer  admirably. " 

"When  you  can  take  an  hour  to  think  of  3  This  gentleman,  a  brother  to  the  Laird  of 

this,  I  will  be  glad  to  hear  from  you.  ...  I  am  Raeburn,  had  made  some  fortune  in  the  East 

in  possession  of  five  or  six  manuscripts,  copies,  Indies,  and  bestowed  the  name  of  Ravenswood 

or  large  extracts,  taken  under  my  own  eyes.  on  a  villa  which  he  built  near  Melrose.  He 

Croker  thinks,  and  I  am  of  his  opinion,  that  if  died  in  1831.-^.  o.  L. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  535 

been  adjudged  to  him,  and  offering  them  to  me,  or  rather  asking  my 
advice  about  the  disposal  of  them.  Answered  .that  I  considered  my- 
self as  swindled  out  of  my  property,  and  therefore  will  give  no  con- 
sent to  any  sale  of  the  pillage.1  Cadell  says  he  is  determined  to  get 
the  MSS.  from  Cowan.  I  told  him  I  would  give  him  the  rest  of  the 
MSS.,  which  are  in  my  own  hand,  for  Mr.  Cadell  has  been  very  friendly 
to  me  in  not  suffering  me  to  want  money  in  difficult  times.  "We  are 
not  pushed  by  our  creditors,  so  can  take  our  own  time ;  and  as  our 
plans  prosper,  we  can  pay  off  debt.  About  two  o'clock  enter  two 
gentlemen  in  an  open  carriage,  both  from  Makerstoun,  and  both  Cap- 
tains in  the  Navy.  Captain  Blair,  a  son  of  the  member  for  Ayrshire, 
my  old  friend  the  Laird  of  Blair.  Just  as  they  retreat,  Mr.  Pontey  is 
announced.  I  was  glad  to  see  this  great  forester.  He  is  a  little  man, 
and  gets  along  with  an  air  of  talent,  something  like  Gifford,  the  fa- 
mous editor  of  the  Quarterly.  As  in  his  case  mental  acuteness  gave 
animation  to  that  species  of  countenance  which  attends  personal  de- 
'  formity.  The  whole  of  his  face  was  bizarre  and  odd,  yet  singularly 
impressive.  We  walked  round,  I  with  great  pain,  by  the  Hooded 
Corbies'  seat,  and  this  great  Lord  of  the  woodland  gave  the  plantation 
great  approbation.  He  seems  rather  systematic  in  pruning,  yet  he  is 
in  a  great  measure  right.  He  is  tolerably  obstinate  in  his  opinions. 
He  dined,  leaving  me  flattered  with  his  applause,  and  pleased  with 
having  seen  him. 

April  11. — This  day  I  went,  with  Anne  and  Miss  Jane  Erskine,2 
to  see  the  laying  of  the  stones  of  foundation  of  two  bridges  in  my 
neighbourhood  over  Tweed  and  the  Ettrick.  There  was  a  great  many 
people  assembled.  The  day  was  beautiful,  the  scene  romantic,  and 
the  people  in  good  spirits  and  good-humour.  Mr.  Paterson*  of  Ga- 
lashiels  made  a  most  excellent  prayer ;  Mr.  Smith4  gave  a  proper  re- 
past to  the  workmen,  and  we  subscribed  sovereigns  apiece  to  provide 
for  any  casualty.  I  laid  the  foundation-stone  of  the  bridge  over 
Tweed,  and  Mr.  C.  B.  Scott6  of  Woll  that  of  Ettrick.  The  general 
spirit  of  good-humour  made  the  scene,  though  without  parade,  ex- 
tremely interesting. 

April  12. — We  breakfasted  with  the  Fergusons,  after  which  Anne 

1  The  Manuscripts  were  sold  by  auction  in  Glasgow.    He  died  in  1871.     Mr.  Paterson  was 

London  on  August  19th,  1831,  and  the  prices  a  grandson  ot  Robert  Paterson,  "Old  Mortali- 

realised  fell  far  short  of  what  might  have  been  ty,"  and  brother  of  the  Rev.  Walter  Paterson, 

expected,  e.g.  (1)  Monastery,  £18;  (2)  Quy  Man-  minister  of  Kirkurd,  author  of  the  Legend  of 

nering,  £27,  10s. ;  (3)  Old  Mortality,  £33;  (4)  lona— a  poem  written  in  imitation  of  the  style 

Antiquary,  £42;  (5)  Rob  Roy,  £50;  (6)  Peveril  of  Scott,  and  in  which  he  recognises  his  obli- 

ofthe  Peak,  £42;  (7)  Waverley,  £18;  (8)  Abbot,  gations  to  Sir  Walter  in  the  following  terms:— 

£14;   (9)  Ivanhof.,  £12;   (10)  Pirate,  £12;   (11)  "From  him  I  derived  courage  to  persevere  in 

Nigel,  £16,  16s. ;    (12)  Kenilworth,  £17  ;   (13)  an  undertaking  on  which  I  had  often  reflected 

Bride  of  Lammermoor,  £14, 14s.—  Total  £317. —  with  terror  and  distrust." — Legend,  notes,  p. 

See  David  Laing's  Catalogue,  pp.  99-108,  for  an  305. 

?^i0«i  °  n^lS ±,D,f d  Sal6S  °f  the  °rig"  4  ^  John  Smith  of  Darnick,  the  builder  ot 

U?S'JIS5B£Pr£W  of  Lord  Kin-  fj><f  f°rd.  «"  «*««*  *  *«•  *"«•*- 

nedder's.     She  died  in  1838 }.  G.  L. 

3  The  Rev.  N.  Paterson,  author  of  The  Manse  &  This  gentleman  died  in  Edinburgh  on  the 

Garden;  afterwards  minister  of  St.  Andrew's,  4th  February,  1838.— ).  o.  L. 


536  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

and  Miss  Erskine  walked  up  the  Rhymer's  Glen.  I  could  as  easily 
have  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome  with  pease  in  my  shoes  unboiled. 
I  drove  home,  and  began  to  work  about  ten  o'clock.  At  one  o'clock 
1  rode,  and  sent  off  what  I  had  finished.  Mr.  Laidlaw  dined  with 
me.  In  the  afternoon  we  wrote  five  or  six  pages  more.  I  am,  I  fear, 
sinking  a  little,  from  having  too  much  space  to  fill,  and  a  want  of  the 
usual  inspiration  which  makes  me,  like  the  chariot  wheels  of  Pharaoh 
in  the  sands  of  the  Red  Sea,  drive  heavily.  It  is  the  less  matter  if 
this  prove,  as  I  suspect,  the  last  of  this  fruitful  family. 

April  13. — Corrected  a  proof  in  the  morning.  At  ten  o'clock 
began  where  I  had  left  off  at  my  romance.  Mr.  Laidlaw  agrees  as  to 
the  portion  of  what  we  are  presently  busy  with.  Laidlaw  begins  to 
smite  the  rock  for  not  giving  forth  the  water  in  quantity  sufficient. 
I  remarked  to  him  that  this  would  not  profit  much.  Doing,  perhaps, 
twelve  pages  a  day  will  easily  finish  us,  and  if  it  prove  dull,  why,  dull 
it  must  be.  I  shall,  perhaps,  have  half  a  dozen  to  make  up  this  night. 
I  have  against  me  the  disadvantage  of  being  called  the  Just,  and 
every  one  of  course  is  willing  to  worry  me.  But  they  have  been  long 
at  it,  and  even  those  works  which  have  been  worst  received  at  their 
appearance  now  keep  their  ground  fairly  enough.  So  we  '11  try  our 
old  luck  another  voyage. 

It  is  a  close,  thick  rain,  and  I  cannot  ride,  and  I  am  too  dead  lame 
to  walk  in  the  house.  So,  feeing  really  exhausted,  I  will  try  to 
sleep  a  little. 

My  nap  was  a  very  short  one,  and  was  agreeably  replaced  by  Basil 
Hall's  Fragments  of  Voyages.  Everything  about  the  inside  of  a  ves- 
sel is  interesting,  and  my  friend  has  the  great  sense  to  know  this  is 
the  case.  I  remember  when  my  eldest  brother  took  the  humour  of 
going  to  sea,  James  Watson1  used  to  be  invited  to  George  Square  to 
tell  him  such  tales  of  hardships  as  might  disgust  him  with  the  serv- 
ice. Such  were  my  poor  mother's  instructions.  But  Captain  Wat- 
son could  not  render  a  sea  life  disgusting  to  the  young  midshipman 
or  to  his  brother,  who  looked  on  and  listened.  The  account  of  assist- 
ance given  to  the  Spaniards  at  Cape  Finisterre,  and  the  absurd  be- 
haviour of  the  Junta,  are  highly  interesting — a  more  inefficient,  yet  a 
more  resolved  class  of  men  than  the  Spaniards  were  never  conceived. 

April  14. — Advised  by  Mr.  Cadell  that  he  has  agreed  with  Mr. 
Turner,  the  first  draughtsman  of  the  period,  to  furnish  to  the  poetical 
works  two  decorations  to  each  of  the  proposed  twelve  volumes,  to 
wit,  a  frontispiece  and  vignette  to  each,  at  the  rate  of  £25  for  each, 
which  is  cheap  enough  considering  these  are  the  finest  specimens  of 
art  going.  The  difficulty  is  to  make  him  come  here  to  take  drawings. 
I  have  written  to  the  man  of  art,  inviting  him  to  my  house,  though, 

•  The  late  Captain  Watson,  R.N.,  was  dis-  came  President  of  the  Royal  Scottish  Academy 

tantly  related  to  Sir  Walter's  mother.    His  son,  in  1850,  died  in  1804,  leaving  funds  to  endow  ;i 

Sir  John  Watson  Gordon,  rose  to  great  emi-  Chair  of  Fine  Arts  in  the  Edinburgh  Univer- 

nence  as  a  painter;  and  his  portraits  of  Scott  sity. 
and  Hogg  rank  urnoiig  his  best  pieces.     He  be- 


1831.] 


JOURNAL 


537 


if  I  remember,  lie  is  not  very  agreeable,  and  offered  to  transport  him 
to  the  places  where  he  is  to  exercise  his  pencil.  His  method  is  to 
take  various  drawings  of  remarkable  places  and  towns  and  stick  them 
all  together.  He  can  therefore  derive  his  subjects  from  good  accu- 
rate drawings,  so  with  Skene's  assistance  we  can  equip  him.  We  can 
put  him  at  home  on  all  the  subjects.  Lord  Meadowbank  and  his  son, 
Skene  and  his  son,  Colonel  Russell  and  his  sister,  dined  with  us.1 

April  15. — Lord  Meadowbank,  etc.,  went  to  Newark  with  me,  and 
returned  to  dine  with  the  foregoing.  Charming  day. 

April  16. — Lord  Meadowbank  went  to  the  circuit  and  our  party 
to  their  various  homes.  By  the  bye,  John  Pringle  and  his  brother  of 
Haining  dined  with  us  yesterday.  Skene  walks  with  me  and  under- 
takes readily  to  supply  Turner  with  subjects.  Weather  enchanting. 
About  100  leaves  will  now  complete  Robert  of  Paris.  Query,  will  it 
answer  ?  Not  knowing,  can't  say.  I  think  it  will. 

Sunday  IQth  [!7fA]  April  to  Sunday  24th  of  the  same  month  un- 
pleasantly occupied  by  ill  [health],  and  its  consequences,  a  distinct 
shock  of  paralysis  affecting  both  my  nerves  and  spine,  though  begin- 
ning only  on  Monday  with  a  very  bad  cold.  Dr.  [Abercrombie]  was 
brought  out  by  the  friendly  care  of  Cadell,  but  young  Clarkson  had 


1  Mr.W.  F.  Skene,  Historiographer  Royal  for 
Scotland,  and  son  of  Scott's  dear  friend,  has 
been  good  enough  to  give  me  his  recollections 
of  these  days : — 

"On  referring  to  my  Diary  for  the  year  1831 
I  find  the  following  entry :  'This  Spring,  on  31st 
April,  I  went  with  my  father  to  Abbotsford  and 
left  on  Sir  Walter  Scott  being  taken  ill.'  The 
date  here  given  for  my  visit  does  not  corre- 
spond with  that  in  Sir  Walter's  Diary,  but,  as 
there  are  only  thirty  days  in  April  it  has  evi- 
dently been  written  by  mistake  for  the  13th. 
I  had  just  attained  my  twenty-first  year,  and 
as  such  a  visit  at  that  early  age  was  a  great 
event  in  my  life,  I  retain  a  very  distinct  recol- 
lection of  the  main  features  of  it.  I  recollect 
that  Lord  Meadowbank  and  his  eldest  son 
Alan  came  at  the  same  time,  and  the  dinner 
party,  at  which  Mr.  Pringle  of  the  Haining  and 
his  brother  were  present.  The  day  after  our 
arrival  Sir  Walter  asked  me  to  drive  with  him. 
We  went  in  his  open  carriage  to  the  Yarrow, 
where  we  got  out,  and  Sir  Walter,  leaning  on 
my  arm,  walked  up  the  side  of  the  river,  pour- 
ing forth  a  continuous  stream  of  anecdotes, 
traditions,  and  scraps  of  ballads.  I  was  in  the 
seventh  heaven  of  delight,  and  thought  I  had 
never  spent  such  a  day.  On  Sunday  Sir  Wal- 
ter did  not  come  down  to  breakfast,  but  sent 
a  message  to  say  that  he  had  caught  cold  and 
had  taken  some  medicine  for  it  the  night  be- 
fore, which  had  made  him  ill,  and  would  re- 
main in  bed.  When  we  sat  at  either  lunch  or 
dinner,  I  do  not  recollect  which,  Sir  Walter 
walked  into  the  room  and  sat  down  near  the 
table,  but  ate  nothing.  He  seemed  in  a  dazed 
state,  and  took  no  notice  of  any  one,  but  after 
a  few  minutes'  silence,  during  which  his  daugh- 
ter Anne,  who  was  at  table,  and  was  watching 
him  with  some  anxiety,  motioned  to  us  to  take 
no  notice,  he  began  in  a  quiet  voice  to  tell  us  a 


story  of  a  pauper  lunatic,  who,  fancying  he  was 
a  rich  man,  and  was  entertaining  all  sorts  of 
high  persons  to  the  most  splendid  banquets, 
communicated  to  his  doctor  in  confidence  that 
there  was  one  thing  that  troubled  him  much, 
and  which  he  could  not  account  for,  and  that 
was  that  all  these  exquisite  dishes  seemed  to 
him  to  taste  of  oatmeal  porridge.  Sir  Walter 
told  this  with  much  humour,  and  after  a  few 
minutes'  silence  began  again,  and  told  the  same 
story  over  a  second  time,  and  then  again  a 
third  time.*  His  daughter,  who  was  watching 
him  with  increasing  anxiety,  then  motioned  to 
us  to  rise  from  table,  and  persuaded  her  father 
to  return  to  his  bedroom.  Next  day  the  doc- 
tor, who  had  been  sent  for,  told  us  that  he  was 
seriously  ill,  and  advised  that  his  guests  should 
leave  at  once,  so  that  the  house  might  be  kept 
quiet  and  his  daughter  devote  herself  entirely 
to  the  care  of  her  father.  We  accordingly  left 
at  once,  and  I  never  saw  Sir  Walter  again.  I 
still,  however,  retain  a  memorial  of  my  visit. 
I  had  fallen  into  indifferent  health  in  the  pre- 
vious year,  and  been  recommended  Highland 
air.  By  Sir  Walter's  advice  I  was  sent  to  live 
with  a  friend  of  his,  the  Reverend  Doctor  Mac- 
intosh Mackay,  then  minister  of  Laggan,  in  the 
Inverness-shire  Highlands,  and  had  passed  my 
time  learning  from  him  the  Gaelic  language. 
This  excited  in  me  a  taste  for  Celtic  Antiqui- 
ties, and  finding  in  Sir  Walter's  Library  a  copy 
of  O'Connor's  Rerum  Hibernicarum  Scriptores 
veteres,  I  sat  up  one  night  transcribing  from  it 
the  Annals  of  Tigheruac.  This  transcript  is  still 
in  my  library WILLIAM  F.  SKEXE. 

"  27  I VVEKI.K irir  Row, 
Sept.  1890." 

*  An  echo  of  one  of  hi«  own  slneul.ir  Illustrations  (see 
Letters  on  Jjemoneloyy)  of  the  occasional  collision  between 
a  disturbed  imagination  and  the  organs  of  sense. 


538  JOURNAL  [APRIL,  1831. 

already  done  the  needful — that  is,  had  bled  and  blistered  severely, 
and  placed  me  on  a  very  restricted  diet.  Whether  these  precautions 
have  been  taken  in  time  I  cannot  tell.  I  think  they  have,  though  se- 
vere in  themselves,  beat  the  disease.  But  I  am  alike  prepared, 

"  Seu  versare  doles,  seu  certse  occumbere  morti." ' 

I  only  know  that  to  live  as  I  am  just  now  is  a  gift  little  worth  hav- 
ing. I  think  I  will  be  in  the  Secret  next  week  unless  I  recruit 
greatly. 

April  27. — They  have  cut  me  off  from  animal  food  and  fermented 
liquor  of  every  kind,  and  would  press  upon  me  such  trash  as  panada 
and  the  like,  which  affect  my  stomach.  This  I  will  none  of,  but 
quietly  wait  till  my  ordinary  diet  is  permitted,  and  thank  God  I  can  fast 
with  any  one.  I  walked  out  and  found  the  day  delightful ;  the  woods 
are  looking  charming,  just  bursting  forth  to  the  tune  of  the  birds. 
I  have  been  whistling  on  my  wits  like  so  many  chickens,  and  cannot 
miss  any  of  them.  I  feel,  on  the  whole,  better  than  I  have  yet  done. 
I  believe  I  have  fined  and  recovered,  and  so  may  be  thankful. 

April  28  and  29. — Walter  made  his  appearance,  well  and  stout, 
and  completely  recovered  of  his  stomach  complaints  by  abstinence. 
He  has  youth  on  his  side,  and  I  in  age  must  submit  to  be  a  Lazarus. 
The  medical  men  persist  in  recommending  a  seton.  I  am  no  friend 
to  these  risky  remedies,  and  will  be  sure  of  the  necessity  before  I 
yield  consent.  The  dying  like  an  Indian  under  torture  is  no  joke,  and, 
as  Commodore  Trunnion  says,  I  feel  heart-whole  as  a  biscuit.  My 
mind  turns  to  politics.  I  feel  better  just  now,  and.  so  I  am.  I  will 
wait  till  Lockhart  comes,  but  that  may  be  too  late. 

.  62. 


MAY 

April  30  and  May  1. — To  meet  Sandy  Pringle  to  settle  the  day 
of  election  on  Monday.  Go  on  with  Count  Robert  half-a-dozen  leaves 
per  day.  I  am  not  much  pleased  with  my  handiwork.  The  Chancery 
money  seems  like  to  be  paid.  This  will  relieve  me  of  poor  Charles, 
who  is  at  present  my  chief  burthen.  The  task  of  pumping  my  brains 
becomes  inevitably  harder  when  "both  chain-pumps  are  choked  be- 
low ;" '  and  though  this  may  not  be  the  case  literally,  yet  the  ap- 
prehension is  wellnigh  as  bad. 

May  2. — The  day  passed  as  usual  in  dictating  (too  little)  and  rid- 
ing a  good  deal.  I  must  get  finished  with  Count  Robert,  who  is  pro- 
gressing, as  the  Transatlantics  say,  at  a  very  slow  pace  indeed.  By 
the  bye,  I  have  a  letter  from  Nathan  T.  Rossiter,  Williamstown,  New 
York  City,  offering  me  a  collection  of  poems  by  Byron,  which  are 
said  to  have  been  found  in  Italy  some  years  since  by  a  friend  of  Mr. 
Rossiter.  I  don't  see  I  can  at  all  be  entitled  to  these,  so  shall  write 
to  decline  them.  If  Mr.  Rossiter  chooses  to  publish  them  in  Italy  or 
America  he  may,  but,  published  here,  they  must  be  the  property  of 
Lord  Byron's  executors. 

May  3. — Sophia  arrives — with  all  the  children  looking  well  and 
beautiful,  except  poor  Johnnie,  who  looks  very  pale.  But  it  is  no 
wonder,  poor  thing  ! 

May  4. — I  have  a  letter  from  Lockhart,  promising  to  be  down  by 
next  Wednesday,  that  is,  to-day.  I  will  consult  him  about  Byron's 
exec.,  and  as  to  these  poems  said  to  be  his  Lordship's.  They  are 
very  probably  first  copies  thrown  aside,  or  may  not  be  genuine  at  all. 
I  will  be  glad  to  see  Lockhart.  My  pronunciation  is  a  good  deal  im- 
proved. My  time  glides  away  ill  employed,  but  I  am  afraid  of  the  palsy. 
I  should  not  like  to  be  pinned  to  my  chair.  But  I  believe  even  that 
kind  of  life  is  more  endurable  than  we  could  suppose.  Your  wishes 
are  limited  to  your  little  circle — yet  the  idea  is  terrible  to  a  man  who 
has  been  active.  My  own  circle  in  bodily  matters  is  daily  narrowing ; 
not  so  in  intellectual  matters,  but  I  am  perhaps  a  bad  judge.  The 
plough  is  coming  to  the  end  of  the  furrow,  so  it  is  likely  I  shall  not 
reach  the  common  goal  of  mortal  life  by  a  few  years.  I  am  now  in 
my  sixtieth  year  only,  and 


1  Three  score  and  ten  years  do  sum  up.' 


i  Falconer's -SftipwrecJt. p.  162—  "The Storm."          *  Scotch  Metrical  Version  of  the  90th  Psalm. 
12mo  ed.    London,  Albion  Press,  1810. 


540  JOURNAL  [MAY 

May  5. — A  fleece  of  letters,  which  must  be  answered,  I  suppose — 
all  from  persons,  my  zealous  admirers,  of  course,  and  expecting  a  de- 
gree of  generosity,  which  will  put  to  rights  all  their  maladies,  phys- 
ical and  mental ;  and  expecting  that  I  can  put  to  rights  whatever 
losses  have  been  their  lot,  raise  them  to  a  desirable  rank,  and  [stand] 
their  protector  and  patron.  I  must,  they  take  it  for  granted,  be  as- 
tonished at  having  an  address  from  a  stranger;  on  the  contrary,  I 
would  be  astonished  if  any  of  these  extravagant  epistles  were  from 
any  one  who  had  the  least  title  to  enter  into  correspondence  with  me. 
I  have  all  the  plague  of  answering  these  teasing  people. 

Mr.  Burn,  the  architect,  came  in,  struck  by  the  appearance  of  my 
house  from  the  road.  lie  approved  my  architecture  greatly.  He 
tells  me  the  edifice  for  Jeanie  Deans — that  is,  her  prototype — is  nigh 
finished,  so  I  must  get  the  inscription  ready.1  Mr.  Burn  came  to  meet 
with  Pringle  of  Haining ;  but,  alas !  it  is  two  nights  since  this  poor 
young  man,  driving  in  from  his  own  lake,  where  he  had  been  fishing, 
an  ill-broken  horse  ran  away  with  him,  and,  at  his  own  stable-dour, 
overturned  the  vehicle  and  fractured  poor  Pringle's  skull ;  he  died 
yesterday  morning.  A  sad  business ;  so  young  a  man,  the  proprietor 
of  a  good  estate,  and  a  well-disposed  youth.  His  politics  were,  I 
think,  mistaken,  being  the  reverse  of  his  father's  ;  but  that  is  nothing 
at  such  a  time.  Burn  went  on  to  Richardson's  place  of  Kirklands, 
where  he  is  to  meet  the  proprietor,  whom  I  too  would  wish  to  see,  but 
I  can  hardly  make  it  out.  Here  is  a  world  of  arrangements.  I  think 
we  will  soon  hit  upon  something.  My  son  Walter  takes  leave  of  me 
to-day"  to  return  to  Sheffield.  At  his  entreaty  I  have  agreed  to  put 

1  On  the  18th  October  Sir  Walter  sent  Mr.  In  June,   1818,  however,   he    made  ample 

Burn  the  following  inscription  for  the  monu-  amends,  and  won  the  hearts  of  all  classes  of 

ment  he  had  commissioned,  and  which  now  his  countrymen  by  his  beautiful  pictures  of 

stands  in  the  churchyard  of  Irongray: —  national  character  in  the  Heart  of  Midlothian. 

It  is  worth  noticing  also  that  ten  years  later, 

"This  stone  was  erected  by  the  Author  of  viz.,  in  December,  1828,  his  friend  Richardson 

Waverley  to  the  memory  of  Helen  Walker,  who  having  written  that  in  the  Tales  of  a  Grand ja- 

died  in  the  year  of  God,  1791.    This  humble  in-  ther  "You  have  paid  a  debt  which  you  owed  to 

dividual  practised  in  real  life  the  virtues  with  the  manes  of  the  Covenanters  for  the  flattering 

which  fiction  has  invested  the  imaginary  char-  picture  which  you  drew  of  Claverhouse  in  Old 

acter  of  Jeauie  Deans;  refusing  the  slightest  Mortality.     His  character  is  inconceivable  to 

departure  from  veractity,  even  to  save  the  life  me:  the  atrocity  of  his  murder  of  those  peas- 

of  a  sister,  she  nevertheless  showed  her  kind-  ants,  as  undauntedly  devoted  to  their  own  good 

ness  and  fortitude,  in  rescuing  her  from  the  cause  as  himself  to  his.  his  personal  (almost 

severity  of  the  law,  at  the  expense  of  personal  hangman-like)  superintendence  of  their  execu- 

exertions,  which  the  time  rendered  as  difficult  tions,  are  wholly  irreconcilable  with  a  chival- 

as  the  motive  was  laudable.    Respect  the  grave  rous  spirit,  which,  however  scornful  of  the 

of  Poverty  when  combined  with  the  love  of  lowly,  could  never,  in  my  mind,  be  cruel." 

Truth  and  dear  affection."  Scott,  in  reply,  gave  his  matured  opinion  in 

It  is  welt  known  that  on  the  publication  of  the  following  words: — 

Old  Mortality  many  people  were  offended  by  "  As  to  Covenanters  and  Maligcants,  they 

what  was  considered  a  caricature  of  the  Cove-  were  both  a  set  of  cruel  and  bloody  bigots,  aud 

nanters,  and  that  Dr.  M'Crie,  the  biographer  had,  notwithstanding,  those  virtues  with  which 

of  Knox,  wrote  a  series  of  papers  in  the  Edin-  bigotry  is  sometimes  allied.    Their  characters 

burgh.  Christian  Instructor,  which  Scott  affected  were  of  a  kind  much  more  picturesque  than 

to  despise,  and  said  he  would  not  read.   He  not  beautiful;  neither  had  the  least  idea  either  of 

only  was  obliged  to  read  the  articles,  but  found  toleration  or  humanity,  so  that   it  happens 

it  necessary  to  inspire  or  write  an  elaborate  that,  so  far  as  they  can  be  distinguished  from 

defence  of  the  truth  of  his  own  picture  of  the  each  other,  one  is  tempted  to  hate  most  the 

Covenanters  in  the  Number  for  January,  1817,  party  which  chances  to  be  uppermost  for  the 

of  the  (juurtm-ly  Review.  time." 


1831.]  JOURNAL  541 

in  a  seton,  which  they  seeru  all  to  recommend.  My  own  opinion  is, 
this  addition  to  my  tortures  will  do  me  no  good ;  but  I  cannot  hold 
out  against  my  son.  So,  when  the  present  blister  is  well  over,  let 
them  try  their  seton,  as  they  call  it. 

May  6  and  7. — Here  is  a  precious  job.  I  have  a  formal  remon- 
strance from  these  critical  persons,  Ballantyne  and  Cadell,  against  the 
last  volume  of  Count  Robert,  Avhich  is  within  a  sheet  of  being  fin- 
ished. I  suspect  their  opinion  will  be  found  to  coincide  with  that 
of  the  public  ;  at  least  it  is  not  very  different  from  my  own.  The 
blow  is  a  stunning  one  I  suppose,  for  I  scarcely  feel  it.  It  is  singu- 
lar, but  it  comes  with  as  little  surprise  as  if  I  had  a  remedy  ready. 
Yet  God  knows,  I  am  at  sea  in  the  dark,  and  the  vessel  leaky,  I  think, 
into  the  bargain.  I  cannot  conceive  that  I  should  have  tied  a  knot 
with  my  tongue  which  my  teeth  cannot  untie.  We  will  see.  I  am 
determined  to  write  a  political  pamphlet  coute  que  coute ;  ay, — should 
it  cost  me  my  life. 

I  will  right  and  left  at  these  unlucky  proof-sheets,  and  alter  at 
least  what  I  cannot  mend. 

May  8. — I  have  suffered  terribly,  that  is  the  truth,  rather  in  body 
than  in  mind,  and  I  often  wish  I  could  lie  down  and  sleep  without 
waking.  But  I  will  fight  it  out  if  I  can.  It  would  argue  too  great  an 
attachment  of  consequence  to  my  literary  labours  to  sink  under.  Did 
I  know  how  to  begin,  I  would  begin  this  very  day,  although  I  knew  I 
should  sink  at  the  end.  After  all,  this  is  but  fear  and  faintness  of 
heart,  though  of  another  kind  from  that  which  trembleth  at  a  load- 
ed pistol.  My  bodily  strength  is  terribly  gone ;  perhaps  my  mental 
too  ? 

May  9. — The  weather  uncommonly  beautiful  and  I  am  very  eager 
to  get  on  thinning  woods  while  the  peeling  season  lasts.  We  made 
about  £200  off  wood  last  season,  and  this  is  a  sum  worth  look- 
ing at. 

May  10. — Some  repairs  on  the  mill-dam  still  keep  the  people  em- 
ployed, and  we  cannot  get  to  the  thinning.  Yet  I  have  been  urging 
them  for  a  month.  It's  a  great  fault  of  Scottish  servants  that  they 
cannot  be  taught  to  time  their  turns. 

May  11. — By  old  practice  I  should  be  going  into  town  to-day,  the 
Court  sitting  to-morrow.  Am  I  happier  that  I  am  free  from  this 
charge  ?  Perhaps  I  am ;  that  is  certain,  time  begins  to  make  my  lit- 
erary labour  more  precious  than  usual.  Very  weak,  scarce  able  to 
crawl  about  without  the  pony — lifted  on  and  off — and  unable  to  walk 
half  a  mile  save  with  great  pain. 

May  12. — Resolved  to  lay  by  Robert  of  Paris,  and  take  it  up  when 
I  can  work.  Thinking  on  it  really  makes  my  head  swim,  and  that  is 
not  safe.  Miss  Ferrier  comes  out  to  us.  This  gifted  personage,  be- 
sides having  great  talents,  has  conversation  the  least  exigeante  of  any 
author,  female  at  least,  whom  I  have  ever  seen  among  the  long  list  I 
have  encountered, — simple,  full  of  humour,  and  exceedingly  ready 


542  JOURNAL  [MAT 

at  repartee  ;  and  all  this  without  the  least  affectation  of  the  blue 
stocking.1 

May  13. — Mr.,  or  more  properly  Dr.,  Macintosh  Mackay  comes 
out  to  sec  me,  a  simple  learned  man,  and  a  Highlander  who  weighs 
his  own  nation  justly — a  modest  and  estimable  person. 

I  was  beat  up  at  midnight  to  sign  a  warrant  against  some  delin- 
quents. I  afterwards  heard  that  the  officers  were  pursued  by  a  mob 
from  Galashiels,  with  purpose  of  deforcing  them  as  far  as  St.  Bos- 
well's  Green,  but  the  men  were  lodged  in  Jedburgh  Castle. 

Reports  of  mobs  at  all  the  elections,  which,  I  fear,  will  prove  too 
true.  They  have  much  to  answer  for  who  in  gaiety  of  heart  have 
brought  a  peaceful  and  virtuous  population  to  such  a  pass. 

May  14. — Rode  with  Lockhart  and  Mr.  Mackay  through  the  plan- 
tations, and  spent  a  pleasanter  day  than  of  late  months.  Story  of  a 
haunted  glen  in  Laggan : — A  chieftain's  daughter  or  cousin  loved  a 
man  of  low  degree.  Her  kindred  discovered  the  intrigue  and  pun- 
ished the  lover's  presumption  by  binding  the  unhappy  man,  and  lay- 
ing him  naked  in  one  of  the  large  ants'  nests  common  in  a  Highland 
forest.  He  died  in  agony  of  course,  and  his  mistress  became  dis- 
tracted, roamed  wildly  in  the  glen  till  she  died,  and  her  phantom, 
finding  no  repose,  haunted  it  after  her  death  to  such  a  degree  that 
the  people  shunned  the  road  by  day  as  well  as  night.  Mrs.  Grant  of 
Laggan  tells  the  story,  with  the  addition,  that  her  husband,  then  min- 
ister of  Laggan,  fixed  a  religious  meeting  in  the  place,  and,  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  public  worship  there,  overcame  the  popular  terror  of  the  Red 
Woman.  Dr.  Mackay  seems  to  think  that  she  was  rather  banished 
by  a  branch  of  the  Parliamentary  road  running  up  the  glen  than  by 
the  prayers  of  his  predecessor.  Dr.  Mackay,  it  being  Sunday,  fa- 
voured us  with  an  excellent  discourse  on  the  Socinian  controversy, 
which  I  wish  my  friend  Mr.  Laidlaw  had  heard. 

May  15. — Dr.  M.  left  us  early  this  morning;  and  I  rode  and 
studied  as  usual,  working  at  the  Tales  of  My  Grandfather.  Our  good 
and  learned  Doctor  wishes  to  go  down  the  Tweed  to  Berwick.  It  is 
a  laudable  curiosity,  and  I  hope  will  be  agreeably  satisfied. 

May  16  and  17. — I  wrote  and  rode  as  usual,  and  had  the  pleasure 
of  Miss  Ferrier's  company  in  my  family  hours,  which  was  a  great  sat- 
isfaction ;  she  has  certainly  less  affectation  than  any  female  I  have 
known  that  has  stood  so  high — Joanna  Baillie  hardly  excepted.  By 
the  way,  she  [Mrs.  Baillie]  has  entered  on  the  Socinian  controversy, 
for  which  I  am  very  sorry  ;  she  has  published  a  number  of  texts  on 
which  she  conceives  the  controversy  to  rest,  but  it  escapes  her  that  she 
can  only  quote  them  through  a  translation.  I  am  sorry  this  gifted  wom- 
an is  hardly  doing  herself  justice,  and  doing  what  is  not  required  at  her 
hands.  Mr.  Laidlaw  of  course  thinks  it  the  finest  thing  in  the  world.1 

i  Sec  Miss  Terrier's  account  of  this  visit  pre-  *  Mr.  Carruthers  remarks  in  his  Abbotsford 
fixed  to  Mr.  Bentley's  choice  edition  of  her  Notcmda: — "  Joanna  Baillie  published  a  thin 
works,  6  vols.  cr.  8vo,  London,  1881.  volume  of  selections  from  the  New  Testament 


1831.]  JOURNAL  543 

May  18. — Went  to  Jedburgh  to  the  election,  greatly  against  the 
wishes  of  my  daughters.  The  mob  were  exceedingly  vociferous  and 
brutish,  as  they  usually  are  now-a-days.  But  the  Sheriff  had  two 
troops  of  dragoons  at  Ancrum  Bridge,  and  all  went  off  quietly.  The 
populace  gathered  in  formidable  numbers — a  thousand  from  Hawick 
alone  ;  they  were  sad  blackguards,  and  the  day  passed  with  much 
clamour  and  no  mischief.  Henry  Scott  was  re-elected — for  the  last 
time,  I  suppose.  Trqjafuit. 

I  left  the  burgh  in  the  midst  of  abuse  and  the  gentle  hint  of 
"  Burke  Sir  Walter."  Much  obliged  to  the  brave  lads  of  Jeddart. 
Upwards  of  forty  freeholders  voted  for  Henry  Scott,  and  only  four- 
teen for  the  puppy  that  opposed  him.  Even  of  this  party  he  gained 
far  .the  greater  number  by  the  very  awkward  coalition  with  Sir  Will- 
iam Scott  of  Ancrum.  I  came  home  at  seven  at  night. 

May  20. — This  is  the  Selkirk  election,  which  I  supposed  would  be 
as  tumultuous  as  the  Jedburgh  one,  but  the  soutars  of  Selkirk  had 
got  a  new  light,  and  saw  in  the  proposed  Reform  Bill  nothing  but  a 
mode  of  disfranchising  their  ancient  burgh.  Although  the  crowd  was 
great,  yet  there  was  a  sufficient  body  of  special  constables,  hearty  in 
their  useful  office,  and  the  election  passed  as  quietly  as  I  ever  wit- 
nessed one.  I  came  home  before  dinner,  very  quiet.  I  am  afraid 
there  is  something  serious  in  Galashiels ;  Jeffrey  is  fairly  funked 
about  it,  and  has  written  letters  to  the  authorities  of  Roxburghshire 
and  Selkirkshire  to  caution  us  against  making  the  precognitions  pub- 
lic, which  looks  ill.  Yet  I  think  he  would  have  made  arrests  when 
the  soldiers  were  in  the  country.  The  time  at  which  I  settled 
at  Abbotsford,  Whitsunday  1811,  I  broke  up  a  conspiracy  of  the 
weavers.  It  will  look  like  sympathising  with  any  renewal  if  another 
takes  place  just  now.  Incendiary  letters  have  been  sent,  and  the  house- 
holders are  in  a  general  state  of  alarm.  The  men  at  Jedburgh  Castle 
are  said  to  be  disposed  to  make  a  clean  breast ;  if  so,  we  shall  soon 
know  more  of  the  matter.  Lord  William  Graham  has  been  nearly 
murdered  at  Dumbarton.  Why  should  he  not  have  brought  down 
50  or  100  lads  with  the  kilts,  each  with  a  good  kent1  in  his  hand  fit 
to  call  the  soul  out  of  the  body  of  these  weavers  ?  They  would  have 
kept  order,  I  warrant  you. 

May  21. — Little  more  than  my  usual  work  and  my  usual  exercise. 
I  rode  out  through  the  plantations  and  saw  the  woodmen  getting  down 
what  was  to  be  felled.  It  seems  there  will  be  as  much  for  sale  as  last 
year  of  bark  :  I  think  about  £40  worth.  A  very  nice  additional  pond 
to  the  sawmill  has  been  executed.  As  for  my  Tales,  they  go  on  well, 
and  are  amusing  to  myself  at  least.  The  History  of  France  is  very 
entertaining. 

'regarding  the  nature  and  dignity  of  Jesus  a  subject.    '  What  had  she  to  do  with  questions 

Christ.'    The  tendency  of  the  work  was  Socin-  of  that  sort?'    He  refused  to  add  the  book  to 

ian,  or  at  least  Arian.  and  Scott  was  indignant  his  library  and  gave  it  to  Laidlaw." — P.  179. 
that  his  friend  should  have  meddled  with  such          '  A  long  stall'. 


544  JOURNAL 


I.MAY 


May  22. — I  have  a  letter  from  my  friend  John  Thomson  of  Diul- 
dingston.  I  had  transmitted  him  an  order  for  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch 
for  his  best  picture,  at  his  best  price,  leaving  the  choice  of  the  subject 
and  everything  else  to  himself.  He  expresses  the  wish  to  do,  at  an 
ordinary  price,  a  picture  of  common  size.  The  declining  to  put  him- 
self forward  will,  I  fear,  be  thought  like  shrinking  from  his  own  rep- 
utation, which  nobody  has  less  need  to  do.  The  Duke  may  wish  a 
large  picture  for  a  large  price  for  furnishing  a  large  apartment,  and 
the  artist  should  not  shrink  from  it.  I  have  written  him  my  opinion. 
The  feeling  is  no  doubt  an  amiable,  though  a  false  one.  He  is  mod- 
est in  proportion  to  his  talents.  But  what  brother  of  the  finer  arts 
ever  approached  [excellence]  so  as  to  please  himself  ? 

May  23,  24,  and  25. — Worked  and  exercised  regularly.  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  care  twopence  about  the  change  of  diet  as  to  taste,  but  I 
feel  my  strength  much  decayed.  On  horseback  rny  spine  feels  re- 
markably sore,  and  I  am  tired  with  a  few  miles'  ride.  We  expect 
Walter  coming  down  for  the  Fife  election. 


[From  May  25th  to  October  9th  there  are  no  dates  in  the  Journal, 
but  the  entry  beginning  "  I  have  been  very  ill "  must  have  been  made 
about  the  middle  of  September.  "  In  the  family  circle,"  says  Mr. 
Lockhart,  "  he  seldom  spoke  of  his  illness  at  all,  and  when  he  did,  it 
was  always  in  a  hopeful  strain."  "  In  private,  to  Laidlaw  and  myself, 
his  language  corresponded  exactly  with  the  tone  of  the  Diary.  He 
expressed  his  belief  that  the  chances  of  recovery  were  few — very  few 
— but  always  added  that  he  considered  it  his  duty  to  exert  what  fac- 
ulties remained  to  him  for  the  sake  of  his  creditors  to  the  very  last. 
— '  I  am  very  anxious,'  he  repeatedly  said  to  me, '  to  be  done  one  way 
or  other  with  this  Count  Robert,  and  a  little  story  about  the  Castle 
Dangerous — which  also  I  had  long  in  my  head — but  after  that  I  will 
attempt  nothing  more,  at  least  not  until  I  have  finished  all  the  notes 
for  the  Novels,'  "  etc. 

On  the  18th  July  he  set  out  in  company  with  Mr.  Lockhart  to  vis- 
it Douglas  Castle,  St.  Bride's  Church  and  its  neighbourhood,  for  the 
purpose  of  verifying  the  scenery  of  Castle  Dangerous,  then  partly 
printed,  returning  on  the  20th. 

He  finished  that  book  and  Count  Robert  before  the  end  of  Au- 
gust. 

In  September,  Mr.  Lockhart,  then  staying  at  Chiefswood,  and 
proposing  to  make  a  run  into  Lanarkshire  for  a  day  or  two,  mentioned 
overnight  at  Abbotsford  that  he  intended  to  take  his  second  son,  then 
a  boy  of  five  or  six  years  of  age,  and  Sir  Walter's  namesake,  with  him 
on  the  stage-coach. 

Next  morning  the  following  affectionate  billet  was  put  into  his 
hands; — - 


1831.]  JOURNAL  545 

To  J.  G.  LOCKHART,  Esq.,  Chiefswood. 
"  DEAR  DON,  or  Doctor  Giovanni, 

"  Can  you  really  be  thinking  of  taking  Wa-Wa  by  the  coach — 
and  I  think  you  said  outside  ?  Think  of  Johnny,  and  be  careful  of 
this  little  man.  Are  you  par  hazard  something  in  the  state  of  the 
poor  capitaine  des  dragons  that  comes  in  singing : — 

'  Comment  ?    Parbleu  !     Qu'en  pensez  vous, 
Bon  gentilhomme,  et  pas  un  sous '  ? 

"  If  so,  remember  '  Richard's  himself  again,'  and  make  free  use  of 
the  enclosed  cheque  on  Cadell  for  £50.  He  will  give  you  the  ready 
as  you  pass  through,  and  you  can  pay  when  I  ask. 

"  Put  horses  to  your  carriage,  and  go  hidalgo  fashion.  We  shall 
all  have  good  days  yet. 

'  And  those  sad  days  you  deign  to  spend 
With  me  I  shall  requite  them  all ; 
Sir  Eustace  for  his  friends  shall  send 
And  thank  their  love  in  Grayling  Hall !' ' 

"W.  S."2 

On  the  loth  September  he  tells  the  Duke  of  Buccleuch,  "I  am 
going  to  try  whether  the  air  of  Naples  will  make  an  old  fellow  of 
sixty  young  again."  . 

On  the  17th  the  old  splendour  of  the  house  was  revived.  Col. 
Glencairn  Burns,  son  of  the  poet,  then  in  Scotland,  came 

"To  stir  with  joy  the  towers  of  Abbotsford." 

The  neighbours  were  assembled,  and,  having  his  son  to  help  him,  Sir 
Walter  did  the  honours  of  the  table  once  more  as  of  yore. 

On  the  19th  the  poet  Wordsworth  arrived,  and  left  on  the  22d. 

On  the  20th,  Mrs.  Lockhart  set  out  for  London  to  prepare  for  her 
father's  reception  there,  and  on  the  23d  Sir  Walter  left  Abbotsford 
for  London,  where  he  arrived  on  the  28th.3] 

1  See  Crabbe's  Sir  Eustace  Grey.  »  See  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  76-106. 

2  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  100-1.' 

35 


OCTOBER 
INTERVAL 

I  HAVE  been  very  ill,  and  if  not  quite  unable  to  write,  I  have  been 
unfit  to  do  so.  I  have  wrought,  however,  at  two  "NVaverley  things, 
but  not  well,  and,  what  is  worse,  past  mending.  A  total  prostration 
of  bodily  strength  is  my  chief  complaint.  I  cannot  walk  half  a  mile. 
There  is,  besides,  some  mental  confusion,  with  the  extent  of  which  I 
am  not  perhaps  fully  acquainted.  I  am  perhaps  setting.  I  am  my- 
self inclined  to  think  so,  and,  like  a  day  that  has  been  admired  as  a 
fine  one,  the  light  of  it  sets  down  amid  mists  and  storms.  I  neither 
regret  nor  fear  the  approach  of  death  if  it  is  coming.  I  would  com- 
pound for  a  little  pain  instead  of  this  heartless  muddiness  of  mind 
which  renders  me  incapable  of  anything  rational.  The  expense  of 
my  journey  will  be  something  considerable,  which  I  can  provide 
against  by  borrowing  £500  from  Mr.  Gibson.  To  Mr.  Cadell  I  owe 
already,  with  the  cancels  on  these  apoplectic  books,  about  £200,  and 
must  run  it  up  to  £500  more  at  least ;  yet  this  heavy  burthen  would 
be  easily  borne  if  I  were  to  be  the  Walter  Scott  I  once  was ;  but  the 
change  is  great.  This  would  be  nothing,  providing  that  I  could 
count  on  these  two  books  having  a  sale  equal  to  their  predecessors ; 
but  as  they  do  not  deserve  the  same  countenance,  they  will  not  and 
cannot  have  such  a  share  of  favour,  and  I  have  only  to  hope  that  they 
will  not  involve  the  Waverley,  which  are  now  selling  30,000  volumes 
a  month,  in  their  displeasure.  Something  of  a  Journal  and  the 
Reliquiae  Trotcosienses  will  probably  be  moving  articles,  and  I  have 
in  short  no  fears  in  pecuniary  matters.  The  ruin  which  I  fear  in- 
volves that  of  my  King  and  country.  Well  says  Colin  Mackenzie : — 

"  Shall  this  desolation  strike  thy  towers  alone  ? 
No,  fair  Ellandonan !   such  ruin  'twill  bring, 
That  the  storm  shall  have  power  to  unsettle  the  throne, 
And  thy  fate  shall  be  mixed  with  the  fate  of  thy  King."  l 

I  fear  that  the  great  part  of  the  memorialists  are  bartering  away 
the  dignity  of  their  rank  by  seeking  to  advance  themselves  by  a  job, 
which  is  a  melancholy  sight.  The  ties  between  democrat  and  aristo- 
crat are  sullen  discontent  with  each  other.  The  former  are  regarded 

1  See  "  Ellandonan  Castle,"  in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  Scott's  Poetical  Works,  vol. 
iv.  p.  361. 


OCT.  1831.]  JOURNAL  547 

as  a  house-dog  which  has  manifested  incipient  signs  of  canine  mad- 
ness, and  is  not  to  be  trusted.  Walter  came  down  to-day  to  join  our 
party. 

[September  20  ?]  —  Yesterday,  Wordsworth,  his  son  [nephew1]  and 
daughter,  came  to  see  us,  and  we  went  up  to  Yarrow.  The  eldest  son 
of  Lord  Ravensworth  also  came  to  see  us,  with  his  accomplished  lady. 
We  had  a  pleasant  party,  and  to-day  were  left  by  the  Liddells,  manent 
the  three  Wordsworths,  cum  cceteris,  a  German  or  Hungarian  Count 
Erdody,  or  some  such  name. 

We  arrived  in  London  [September  28,]  after  a  long  and  painful 
journey,  the  weakness  of  my  limbs  palpably  increasing,  and  the  physic 
prescribed  making  me  weaker  every  day.  Lockhart,  poor  fellow,  is  as 
attentive  as  possible,  and  I  have,  thank  God,  no  pain  whatever  ;  could 
the  end  be  as  easy  it  would  be  too  happy.  I  fancy  the  instances  of 
Euthanasia  are  not  very  uncommon.  Instances  there  certainly  are 
among  the  learned  and  the  unlearned  —  Dr.  Black,  Tom  Purdie.  I 
should  wish,  if  it  please  God,  to  sleep  off  in  such  a  quiet  way  ;  but  we 
must  take  what  Fate  sends.  I  have  not  warm  hopes  of  being  myself 
again. 

Wordsworth  and  his  daughter,  a  fine  girl,  were  with  us  on  the  last 
day.  I  tried  to  write  in  her  diary,  and  made  an  ill-favoured  botch  — 
no  help  for  it.  "  Stitches  will  wear,  and  ill  ones  will  out,"  as  the  tailor 
says.2 

[October  8,  London.]  —  The  King  has  located  me  on  board  the 
JBarham,  with  my  suite,  consisting  of  my  eldest  son,  youngest  daugh- 
ter, and  perhaps  my  daughter-in-law,  which,  with  poor  Charles,  will 
make  a  goodly  tail.  I  fancy  the  head  of  this  tail  cuts  a  poor  figure, 
scarce  able  to  stir  about. 

The  town  is  in  a  foam  with  politics.  The  report  is  that  the  Lords 
will  throw  out  the  Bill,  and  now,  morning  of  8th  October,  I  learn  it  is 
quoited  downstairs  like  a  shovel-board  shilling,  with  a  plague  to  it,  as 
the  most  uncalled-for  attack  upon  a  free  constitution,  under  which 
men  lived  happily,  which  ever  was  ventured  in  my  day.  Well,  it 
would  have  been  pleasing  to  have  had  some  share  in  so  great  a  vic- 
tory, yet  even  now  I  am  glad  I  have  been  quiet.  I  believe  I  should 
only  have  made  a  bad  figure.  Well,  I  will  have  time  enough  to  think 
of  all  this. 

October  9.  —  The  report  to-day  is  that  the  Chancellor3  will  unite 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  to  bring  in  a  Bill 
of  his  own  concocting,  modified  to  the  taste  of  the  other  two,  with 

1  Now  the  Bishop  of  St.  Andrew's.  upon  the  whole  he  had  led.  "  —  Knight's  Wordt- 

As  has  been  already  said,  Wordsworth  ar-      worth,  vol.  iii.  p.  201. 


had  a  serious  conversation  tete-d-tete,  when  he  or<*™°r*,  *  <     '»• 

spoke  with  gratitude  of  the  happy  life'  which          3  Lord  Brougham. 


548  JOURNAL  [Oci. 

which  some  think  they  will  be  satisfied.  This  is  not  very  unlikely, 
for  Lord  Brougham  has  been  displeased  with  not  having  been  admit- 
ted to  Lord  John  Russell's  task  of  bill-drawing.  He  is  a  man  of  un- 
bounded ambition,  as  well  as  unbounded  talent  and  [uncertain]  tem- 
per. There  have  been  hosts  of  people  here,  particularly  the  Duke  of 
Buccleuch,  to  ask  me  to  the  christening  of  his  son  and  heir,  when  the 
King  stands  godfather.  I  am  asked  as  an  ally  and  friend  of  the  fam- 
•  ily,  which  makes  the  compliment  greater.  Singular  that  I  should 
have  stood  godfather  to  this  Duke  himself,  representing  some  great 
man. 

October  10. — Yesterday  we  dined  alone,  so  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  speaking  seriously  to  John ;  but  I  fear  procrastination.  It  is  the 
cry  of  Friar  Bacon's  Brazen  head,  time  is — time  was ;  but  the  time 
may  soon  come — time  shall  be  no  more.  The  Whigs  are  not  very 
bold,  not  much  above  a  hundred  met  to  support  Lord  Grey  to  the  last. 
Their  resolutions  are  moderate,  probably  because  they  could  not  have 
carried  stronger.  I  went  to  breakfast  at  Sir  Robert  Henry  Inglis', 
and  coming  home  about  twelve  found  the  mob  rising  in  the  Regent's 
Park,  and  roaring  for  Reform  as  rationally  as  a  party  of  Angusshire 
cattle  would  have  done. 

Sophia  seemed  to  act  as  the  jolly  host  in  the  play.  "  These  are 
my  windows,"  and,  shutting  the  shutters,  "  let  them  batter — I  care  not 
serving  the  good  Duke  of  Norfolk."  After  a  time  they  passed  out  of 
our  sight,  hurrying  doubtless  to  seek  a  more  active  scene  of  reforma- 
tion. As  the  night  closed,  the  citizens  who  had  hitherto  contented 
themselves  with  shouting,  became  more  active,  and  when  it  grew  dark 
set  forth  to  make  work  for  the  glaziers. 

October  11,  Tuesday. — We  set  out  in  the  morning  to  breakfast 
with  Lady  Gifford.  We  passed  several  glorious  specimens  of  the  last 
night's  feats  of  the  reformers.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle's  and  Lord 
Dudley's  houses  were  sufficiently  broken.  The  maidens,  however,  had 
resisted,  and  from  the  top  of  the  house  with  coals,  which  had  greatly 
embarrassed  the  assembled  mob.  Surely  if  the  people  are  determined 
on  using  a  right  so  questionable,  and  the  Government  resolved  to  con- 
sider it  as  too  sacred  to  be  resisted,  some  modes  of  resistance  might 
be  resorted  to  of  a  character  more  ludicrous  than  firearms, — coals,  for 
example,  scalding  oil,  boiling  water,  or  some  other  mode  of  defence 
against  a  sudden  attack.  We  breakfasted  with  a  very  pleasant  party 
at  Lady  Gifford's.  I  was  particularly  happy  to  meet  Lord  Sidmouth ; 
at  seventy-five,  he  tells  me,  as  much  in  health  and  spirits  as  at  sixty. 
I  also  met  Captain  Basil  Hall,  to  whom  I  owe  so  much  for  promoting 
my  retreat  in  so  easy  a  manner.  I  found  my  appointment  to  the 
Barham  had  been  pointed  out  by  Captain  Henry  Duncan,  R.N.,  as 
being  a  measure  which  would  be  particularly  agreeable  to  the  officers 
of  the  service.  This  is  too  high  a  compliment.  In  returning  I  called 
to  see  the  repairs  at  Lambeth,  which  are  proceeding  under  the  able 
direction  of  Blore,  who  met  me  there.  -They  are  in  the  best  Gothic 


1831.]  JOURNAL         *  549 

taste,  and  executed  at  the  expense  of  a  large  sum,  to  be  secured  by 
way  of  mortgage,  payable  in  fifty  years ;  each  incumbent  within  the 
time  paying  a  proportion  of-  about  £4000  a  year.  I  was  pleased  to 
see  this  splendour  of  church  architecture  returning  again. 

Lord  Mahon,  a  very  amiable  as  well  as  a  clever  young  man,  comes 
to  dinner  with  Mr.  Croker ;  Lady  Louisa  Stuart  in  the  afternoon,  or, 
more  properly,  at  night. 

October  12. — Misty  morning — looks  like  a  yellow  fog,  which  is  the 
curse  of  London.  I  would  hardly  take  my  share  of  it  for  a  share  of 
its  wealth  and  its  curiosity — a  vile  double-distilled  fog  of  the  most 
intolerable  kind.  Children  scarce  stirring  yet,  but  baby  and  the 
Macaw  beginning  their  Macaw  notes.  Among  other  feats  of  the  mob 
on  Monday,  a  gentleman  who  saw  the  onslaught  told  me  two  men  got 
on  Lord  Londonderry's  carriage  and  struck  him ;  the  chief  constable 
came  to  the  rescue  and  belaboured  the  rascals,  who  ran  and  roared. 
I  should  have  liked  to  have  seen  the  onslaught — Dry  beating,  and 
plenty  of  it,  is  a  great  operator  of  a  reform  among  these  gentry.  At 
the  same  time  Lord  Londonderry  is  a  brain-sick  man,  very  unlike  his 
brother.  He  horsewhipped  a  sentinel  under  arms  at  Vienna  for  obey- 
ing his  consigne,  which  was  madness.  On  the  other  side  all  seems  to 
be  prepared.  Heavy  bodies  of  the  police  are  stationed  in  all  the 
squares  and  places  supporting  each  other  regularly.  The  men  them- 
selves say  that  their  numbers  amount  to  3000,  and  that  they  are  sup- 
ported by  troops  in  still  greater  numbers,  so  that  the  Conservative 
force  is  sufficiently  strong.  Four  o'clock— a  letter  from  the  Duke 
saying  the  party  is  put  off  by  command  of  the  King,  and  probably 
the  day  will  be  put  off  until  the  Duke's  return  from  Scotland,  so  our 
hopes  of  seeing  the  fine  ceremony  are  all  ended. 

October  1 3. — Node  pluit  tola — an  excellent  recipe  for  a  mob,  so 
they  have  been  quiet  accordingly,  as  we  are  informed.  Two  or  three 
other  wet  nights  would  do  much  to  weary  them  out  with  inactivity. 
Milman,  whom  I  remember  a  fine  gentlemanlike  young  man,  dined 
here  yesterday.  He  says  the  fires  have  never  ceased  in  his  country, 
but  that  the  oppressions  and  sufferings  occasioned  by  the  poor's 
rates  are  very  great,  and  there  is  no  persuading  the  English  farmer 
that  an  amended  system  is  comfortable  both  for  rich  and  poor.  The 
plan  of  ministers  is  to  keep  their  places  maugre  Peers  and  Commons 
both,  while  they  have  the  countenance  of  the  crown ;  but  if  a  Prince 
shelters,  by  authority  of  the  prerogative,  ministers  against  the  will  of 
the  other  authority  of  the  state,  does  he  not  quit  the  defence  which 
supposes  he  can  do  no  wrong  ?  This  doctrine  would  make  a  curious 
change  of  parties.  Will  they  attempt  to  legitimize  the  Fitz  Clar- 
ences ?  God  forbid !  Yet  it  may  end  in  that, — it  would  be  Paris 
all  over.  The  family  is  said  to  have  popular  qualities.  Then  what 
would  be  the  remedy  ?  Marry !  seize  on  the  person  of  the  Princess 
Victoria,  carrying  her  north  and  setting  up  the  banner  of  England 
with  the  Duke  of  W.  as  dictator !  Well,  I  am  too  old  to  fight,  and 


550  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

therefore  should  keep  the  windy  side  of  the  law ;  besides,  I  shall  be 
buried  before  times  come  to  a  decision.  In  the  meantime  the  King 
dare  not  go  to  stand  godfather  to  the  son  of  one  of  his  most  power- 
ful peers,  a  party  of  his  own  making,  lest  his  loving  subjects  pull  the 
house  about  the  ears  of  his  noble  host  and  the  company  invited  to 
meet  him.  Their  loyalty  has  a  pleasant  way  of  displaying  itself.  I 
will  go  to  Westminster  after  breakfast  and  see  what  people  are  say- 
ing, and  whether  the  Barham  is  likely  to  sail,  or  whether  its  course  is 
not  altered  to  the  coast  of  the  Low  Countries  instead  of  the  Medi- 
terranean. 

October  14. — Tried  to  walk  to  Lady  Louisa  Stuart's,  but  took  a 
little  vertigo  and  came  back.  Much  disturbed  by  a  letter  from  Wal- 
ter.  He  is  like  to  be  sent  on  an  obnoxious  service  with  very  inade- 
quate force,  little  prospect  of  thanks  if  he  does  his  duty,  and  much 
of  blame  if  he  is  unable  to  accomplish  it.  I  have  little  doubt  he  will 
ware  his  mother's  calf-skin  on  them. 

The  manufacturing  districts  are  in  great  danger.  London  seems 
pretty  secure.  Sent  off  the  revise  of  introduction  to  Mr.  Cadell.1 

October  16. — A  letter  from  Walter  with  better  news.  He  has 
been  at  hard-heads  with  the  rogues  and  come  off  with  advantage ;  in 
short,  practised  with  success  the  art  of  drawing  two  souls  out  of  one 
weaver."  All  seems  quiet  now,  and  I  suppose  the  Major  will  get  his 
leave  as  proposed.  Two  ladies — [one]  Byron's  Mary  Chaworth — 
have  been  frightened  to  death  while  the  mob  tore  the  dying  creat- 
ures from  their  beds  and  proposed  to  throw  them  into  the  flames, 
drank  the  wine,  destroyed  the  furniture,  and  committed  other  ex- 
cesses of  a  jacquerie.*  They  have  been  put  down,  however,  by  a 
strong  force  of  yeomanry  and  regulars.  Walter  says  the  soldiers  fired 
over  the  people's  heads,  whereas  if  they  had  levelled  low,  the  bullets 
must  have  told  more  among  the  multitude.  I  cannot  approve  of  this, 
for  in  such  cases  severity  is  ultimate  mercy.4  However,  if  they  have 
made  a  sufficient  impression  to  be  striking — why,  enough  is  as  good 
as  a  feast. 

There  is  a  strange  story  about  town  of  ghost-seeing  vouched  by 
Lord  Prudhoe,  a  near  relation  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland,  and 
whom  I  know  as  an  honourable  man.  A  colonel  described  as  a  cool- 
headed  sensible  man  of  worth  and  honour,  Palgrave,  who  dined  with 
us  yesterday,  told  us  twice  over  the  story  as  vouched  by  Lord  Prnd- 
hoe,  and  Lockhart  gave  us  Colonel  Felix's  edition,  which  coincided 
exactly.  I  will  endeavour  to  extract  the  essence  of  both.  While  at 
Grand  Cairo  they  were  attracted  by  the  report  of  a  physician  who 
could  do  the  most  singular  magical  feats,  and  was  in  the  habit  not 
only  of  relieving  the  living,  but  calling  up  the  dead.  This  sage  was 

1  The  Introductory  address  to  Count  Robert  4  Scott's  views  received  strmR  confirmation 
of  Paris  bears  the  date  October  15th,  1831.  a  few  days  later  at  Bristol,  where  the  authori- 

2  Twelfth  Night,  Act  n.  Sc.  3.  ties,  through  mistaken  humanity,  hesitated  to 

3  See  Moore's  edition  of  Byron's  Works,  vol.  order  the  military  to  act. 
Vii.  pp.  43-44,  note. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  551 

the  member  of  a  tribe  in  the  interior  part  of  Africa.  They  were 
some  time  (two  years)  in  finding  him  out,  for  he  by  no  means  pressed 
himself  on  the  curious,  nor  did  he  on  the  other  hand  avoid  them  ; 
but  when  he  came  to  Grand  Cairo  readily  agreed  to  gratify  them  by 
a  sight  of  his  wonders.  The  scenes  exhibited  were  not  visible  to  the 
operator  himself,  nor  to  the  person  for  whose  satisfaction  they  were 
called  up,  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Bee  and  other  adepts,  by  means 
of  a  viewer,  an  ignorant  Nubian  boy,  whom,  to  prevent  imposi- 
tion, the  English  gentlemen  selected  for  the  purpose,  and,  as  they 
thought,  without  any  risk  of  imposture  by  confederacy  betwixt  him 
and  the  physician.  The  process  was  as  follows: — A  black  square 
was  drawn  in  the  palm  of  the  boy's  hand,  or  rather  a  kind  of  penta- 
cle  with  an  Arabic  character  inscribed  at  each  angle.  The  figures 
evoked  were  seen  through  this  space  as  if  the  substance  of  the  hand 
had  been  removed.  Magic  rites,  and  particularly  perfumes,  were  lib- 
erally resorted  to.  After  some  fumigation  the  magician  declared  that 
they  could  not  proceed  until  the  seven  flags  should  become  visible. 
The  boy  declared  he  saw  nothing,  then  said  he  saw  a  flag,  then  two ; 
often  hesitated  at  the  number  for  a  certain  time,  and  on  several  occa- 
sions the  spell  did  not  work  and  the  operation  went  no  further,  but 
in  general  the  boy  saw  the  seven  flags  through  the  aperture  in  his 
hand.  The  magician  then  said  they  must  call  the  Sultan,  and  the 
boy  said  he  saw  a  splendid  tent  fixed,  surrounded  by  immense  hosts, 
Eblis  no  doubt,  and  his  angels.  The  person  evoked  was  then  named, 
and  appeared  accordingly.  The  only  indispensable  requisite  was 
that  he  was  named  speedily,  for  the  Sultan  did  not  like  to  be  kept 
waiting.  Accordingly,  William  Shakespeare  being  named,  the  boy 
declared  that  he  saw  a  Frank  in  a  dress  which  he  described  as  that 
of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  or  her  successor,  having  a  singular  counte- 
nance, a  high  forehead,  and  a  very  little  beard.  Another  time  a 
brother  of  the  Colonel  was  named.  The  boy  said  he  saw  a  Frank  in 
his  uniform  dress  and  a  black  groom  behind  him  leading  a  superb 
horse.  The  dress  was  a  red  jacket  and  white  pantaloons;  and  the 
principal  figure  turning  round,  the  boy  announced  that  he  wanted  his 
arm,  as  was  the  case  with  Felix's  brother.  The  ceremony  was  re- 
peated fourteen  times ;  successfully  in  twelve  instances,  and  in  two 
it  failed  from  non-appearance  of  the  seven  banners  in  the  first  in- 
stance. The  apparent  frankness  of  the  operator  was  not  the  least 
surprising  part  of  the  affair.  He  made  no  mystery,  said  he  possess- 
ed this  power  by  inheritance,  as  a  family  gift;  yet  that  he  could 
teach  it,  and  was  willing  to  do  so,  for  no  enormous  sum — nay,  one 
which  seemed  very  moderate.  I  think  two  gentlemen  embraced  the 
offer.  One  of  them  is  dead  and  the  other  still  abroad.  The  sage 
also  took  a  price  for  the  exhibition  of  his  skill,  but  it  was  a  moderate 
one,  being  regulated  by  the  extent  of  the  perfumes  consumed  in  the 
ceremony. 

There  remains  much  more  to  ask  I  understood  the  witnesses  do 


552  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

not  like  to  bother  about,  which  is  very  natural.  One  would  like  to 
know  a  little  more  of  the  Sultan,  of  the  care  taken  to  secure  the 
fidelity  of  the  boy  who  was  the  viewer  and  on  whom  so  much  de- 
pended ;  whether  another  sage  practising  the  same  feat,  as  it  was  said 
to  be  hereditary,  was  ever  known  to  practise  in  the  city.  The  truth 
of  a  story  irreconcilable  with  the  common  course  of  nature  must  de- 
depend  on  cross-examination.  If  we  should  find,  while  at  Malta, 
that  we  had  an  opportunity  of  expiscating  this  matter,  though  at 
the  expense  of  a  voyage  to  Alexandria,  it  would  hardly  deter  me.1 
The  girls  go  to  the  Chapel  Royal  this  morning  at  St.  James's.  A 
visit  from  the  Honourable  John  Forbes,  son  of  my  old  and  early 
friend  Lord  Forbes,  who  is  our  fellow-passenger.  The  ship  expects 
presently  to  go  to  sea.  I  was  very  glad  to  see  this  young  officer  and 
to  hear  his  news.  Drummond  and  I  have  been  friends  from  our  in- 
fancy. 

October  17. — The  morning  beautiful.  To-day  I  go  to  look  after 
the  transcripts  in  the  Museum  and  have  a  card  to  see  a  set  of  chess- 
men* thrown  up  by  the  sea  on  the  coast  of  Scotland,  which  were 
offered  to  sale  for  £100.  The  King,  Queen,  Knight,  etc.,  were  in  the 
costume  of  the  14th  century,  the  substance  ivory  or  rather  the  tusk 
of  the  morse,  somewhat  injured  by  the  salt  water  in  which  they  had 
been  immersed  for  some  time. 

Sir  John  Malcolm  told  us  a  story  about  Garrick  and  his  wife. 
The  lady  admired  her  husband  greatly,  but  blamed  him  for  a  taste  for 
low  life,  and  insisted  that  he  loved  better  to  play  Scrub  to  a  low-lifed 
audience  than  one  of  his  superior  characters  before  an  audience  of 
taste.  On  one  particular  occasion  she  was  in  her  box  in  the  theatre. 
Richard  III.  was  the  performance,  and  Garrick's  acting,  especially  in 
the  night  scene,  drew  down  universal  applause.  After  the  play  was 

1  At  Malta,  accordingly,  we  find  Sir  Walter  to  the  questions  likely  to  be  asked.     So  ho  was 

making  inquiry  regarding  this  Arabian  conjur-  more  perfect  when  consulted  by  Lord  Priulhoe 

er,  and  writing  to  Mr.  Lockhart,  on  Nov.  1831,  than  at  first,  when  he  made  various  blunders, 

in  the  following  terms: —  and  when  we  must  needs  say  faLsum  in  itm> 

"  I  have  got  a  key  to  the  conjuring  story  of  falsum  in  omnibus.  As  all  this  will  come  out 
Alexandria  and  Grand  Cairo.  I  have  seen  very  one  day,  I  have  no  wish  to  mingle  in  the  con- 
distinct  letters  of  Sir  John  Stoddart's  son,  who  troversy.  .  .  .  There  are  still  many  things  to 
attended  three  of  the  formal  exhibitions  which  explain,  but  I  think  the  mystery  is  unearthed 
broke  down,  though  they  were  repeated  after-  completely." 

wards  with  success.    Young  Stoddart  is  an  ex-          See  also  I.ane's  Egyptians  for  an  account  of 

cellent  Arabian  scholar— an  advantage  which  I  what  appears  to  be  the  same  man  in  1837. 

understand  is  more  imperfectly  enjoyed  by  Lord  Also  Quarterly  Renew,  No.  117,  pp.  190-208. 

Prudhoe  and  Colonel  Felix.     Much  remains  to  for  an  examination  of  this  "Magic  Mirror1' 

be  explained,  but  the  boldness  of  the  attempt  exhibition. 

exceeds  anything  since  the  days  of  the  Autom-          2  A  hoard  of  seventy-eight  chess-men  found 

aton  chess-player,  or  the  Bottle  conjurer.    The  in  the  island  of  Lewis  in  1831.    The  greau-r 

first  time  Shakespeare  was  evoked  he  appeared  number  of  the  figures  were  purchased  for  tie 

in  the  complexion  of  an  Arab.    This  seems  to  British  Museum,  and  formed  the  subject  of  a 

have  been  owing  to  the  first  syllable  of  his  learned  dissertation  by  Sir  Frederick  Madden; 

name,  which    resembled  the    Arabian    word  see  Arctueotogia,  xxiv.    Eleven  of  these  very 

.stoeifr,  and  suggested  the  idea  of  an  Arabian  interesting  pieces  Ml  into  the  hands  of  Soott'g 

chief  to  the  conjurer.      A  gentleman   named  friend,  C.  K.  Sharpe.  and  afterwards  of  Ixmi 

(•alloway  has  bought  the  secret,  and  talks  of  be-  Londesborough.     More  recently  these  identical 

ing  frightened.     There  can  be  little  doubt  that,  pieces  were  purchased  for  the" Museum  of  An- 

having  so  far  interested  himself,  it  would  be-  tiquities,  Edinburgh,  where  they  now  are.    See 

come  his  interest  to  put  the  conjurer  more  up  Proc.  Soc.  Antiq.,  vol.  xxiii. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  553 

over  Mrs.  G.  proposed  going  home,  which  Garrick  declined,  alleging 
he  had  some  business  in  the  green-room,  which  must  detain  him.  In 
short,  the  lady  was  obliged  to  acquiesce,  and  wait  the  beginning  of  a 
new  entertainment,  in  which  was  introduced  a  farmer  giving  his 
neighbours  an  account  of  the  wonders  seen  on  a  visit  to  London.  This 
chai'acter  was  received  with  such  peals  of  applause  that  Mrs.  Garrick 
began  to  think  it  rivalled  those  which  had  been  so  lately  lavished  on 
Richard  the  Third.  At  last  she  observed  her  little  spaniel  dog  was 
making  efforts  to  get  towards  the  balcony  which  separated  him  from 
the  facetious  farmer.  Then  she  became  aware  of  the  truth.  "  How 
strange,"  she  said,  "  that  a  dog  should  know  his  master,  and  a  woman, 
in  the  same  circumstances,  should  not  recognise  her  husband !" 

October  1 8. — Sophia  had  a  small  but  lively  party  last  night,  as  in- 
deed she  has  had  every  night  since  we  were  here — Ladies — [Lady 
Stafford,]  Lady  Louisa  Stuart,  Lady  Montagu,  Miss  Montagu,  Lady 
[Davy],  [Mrs.]  Macleod,  and  two  or  three  others ;  Gentlemen — Lord 
Montagu,  Macleod,  Lord  Dudley,  Rogers  [Mackintosh].  A  good  deal 
of  singing.  If  Sophia  keeps  to  early  hours  she  may  beat  London  for 
small  parties  as  poor  Miss  AVhite  did,  and  without  much  expense. 
A  little  address  is  all  that  is  necessary.  Sir  John1  insists  on  my 
meeting  this  Rammohun  Roy  ;2  I  am  no  believer  in  his  wandering 
knight,  so  far.  The  time  is  gone  of  sages  who  travelled  to  collect 
wisdom  as  well  as  heroes  to  reap  honour.  Men  think  and  fight  for 
money.  I  won't  see  the  man  if  I  can  help  it.  Flatterers  are  difficult 
enough  to  keep  at  a  distance  though  they  be  no  renegades.  I  hate  a 
fellow  who  begins  with  throwing  away  his  own  religion,  and  then  af- 
fects a  prodigious  respect  for  another. 

October  19. — Captain  H.  Duncan  called  with  Captain  Pigot,  a 
smart-looking  gentlemanlike  man,  and  announces  his  purpose  of  sail- 
ing on  Monday.  I  have  made  my  preparations  for  being  on  board  on 
Sunday,  which  is  the  day  appointed.  Captain  Duncan  told  me  jocu- 
larly never  to  take  a  naval  captain's  word  on  shore,  and  quoted  Sir 
William  Scott,  who  used  to  say,  waggishly,  that  there  was  nothing  so 
accommodating  as  a  naval  captain  on  shore  ;  but  when  on  board  he  be- 
came a  peremptory  lion.  Henry  Duncan  has  behaved  very  kindly, 
and  says  he  only  discharges  the  wishes  of  his  service  in  making  me 
as  easy  as  possible,  which  is  very  handsome.  No  danger  of  feud, 
except  about  politics,  which  would  be  impolite  on  my  part,  and 
though  it  bars  out  one  great  subject  of  discourse,  it  leaves  enough 
besides.  That  I  might  have  nothing  doubtful,  Walter  arrives  with 
his  wife,  ready  to  sail,  so  what  little  remains  must  be  done  without 

1  Sir  John  Malcolm,  who  was  at  this  time  among  the  contributors  to  that  shrine  of  gen- 
ii. P.  for  Launceston.     His  last  public  appear-  ius. "    Sir  John  was  struck  down  by  paralysis 
auce  was  in  London,  at  a  meeting  convened  on  the  following  day,  and  died  in  May,  1833. 
for  the  purpose  of  raising  a  monument  of  his 

friend  Sir  Walter,  and  his  concluding  words  4  The  celebrated  Brahmin  philosopher  and 

were,  that  when  he  himself  "  was  gone,  his  son  theist;  born  in  Bengal  about  1774,  died  at  Sta- 

might  be  proud  to  say  that  his  father  had  been  pleton  Grove,  near  Bristol,  September  27, 1833. 


554  JOURNAL  [Oct. 

loss  of  time.  This  is  our  last  morning,  so  I  have  money  to  draw  for 
and  pay  away.  To  see  our  dear  Lord  Montagu  too.  The  Duchess 
came  yesterday.  I  suppose  £50  will  clear  me,  with  some  balance  for 
Gibraltar. 

I  leave  this  country  uncertain  if  it  has  got  a  total  pardon  or  only 
a  reprieve.  I  won't  think  of  it,  as  I  can  do  no  good.  It  seems  to  be 
in  one  of  those  crises  by  which  Providence  reduces  nations  to  their 
original  elements.1  If  I  had  my  health,  I  should  take  no  worldly  fee, 
hot  to  be  in  the  bustle ;  but  I  am  as  weak  as  water,  and  I  shall  be 
glad  when  I  have  put  the  Mediterranean  between  the  island  and  me. 

October  21  and  22. — Spent  in  taking  of  farewell  and  adieus,  which 
had  been  put  off  till  now.  A  melancholy  ceremonial,  with  some  a 
useless  one ;  yet  there  are  friends  whom  it  sincerely  touches  one  to 
part  with.  It  is  the  cement  of  life  giving  way  in  a  moment.  An- 
other unpleasant  circumstance  is — one  is  called  upon  to  recollect 
those  whom  death  or  estrangement  has  severed,  afte-r  starting  merrily 
together  in  the  voyage  of  life. 

October  23. — Portsmouth;  arrived  here  in  the  evening.  Found 
the  JBarham  will  not  sail  till  26th  October,  that  is  Wednesday  next. 
The  girls  break  loose,  mad  with  the  craze  of  seeing  sights,  and 
run  the  risk  of  our  losing  some  of  our  things  and  deranging  the 
naval  officers,  who  offer  their  services  with  their  natural  gallantry. 
Captain  Pigot  came  to  breakfast,  with  several  other  officials.  The 
girls  contrived  to  secure  a  sight  of  the  Block  manufactory,  together 
with  that  of  the  Biscuit,  also  invented  by  Brunei.  I  think  that  I 
have  seen  the  first  of  these  wonderful  [sights]  in  1816,  or  about  that 
time."  Sir  Thomas  Foley  gives  an  entertainment  to  the  Admiralty, 
and  sends  to  invite  [me]  ;  but  I  pleaded  health,  and  remained  at  home. 
Neither  will  I  go  out  sight-seeing,  which  madness  seems  to  have 
seized  my  womankind.  This  ancient  town  is  one  of  the  few  in  Eng- 
land which  is  fortified,  and  which  gives  it  a  peculiar  appearance.  It 
is  much  surrounded  with  heaths  or  thin  poor  muirs  covered  with 
heather,  very  barren,  yet  capable  of  being  converted  into  rich  arable 
and  pasturage.  I  would  [not]  desire  a  better  estate  than  to  have 
2000  acres  which  would  be  worth  40  shillings  an  acre. 

October  24. — My  womankind  are  gone  out  with  Walter  and  Cap- 
tain Hall.  I  wish  they  would  be  moderate  in  their  demands  on  peo- 
ple's complaisance.  They  little  know  how  inconvenient  are  such 
seizures.  A  sailor  is  in  particular  a  bad  refuser,  and  before  he  can 
turn  three  times  round,  he  is  bound  with  a  triple  knot  to  all  kinds 

1  Sir  Walter's  fears  for  the  country  were  also  point  out  to  me  any  one  place  in  Europe  where 

shared  by  some  of  the  wisest  men  in  it.    The  an  old  man  could  go  to  and  be  quite  sure  of  being 

Duke  of  Wellington,  it  is  well  known,  wns  most  safe  and  dying  in  peace  f " — Stanhope  A'otes.  p. 

desponding,  and  he  anticipated  greater  horror  2'24. 

from  a  convulsion  here  than  in  any  other  Eu-  "  See  Mr.  Charles  Cowan's  privately  printed 

ropean  nation.  Reminisc'.nces  for  Scott's  recollections  of  hia 

Talleyrand  said  to  the  Duke  during  the  Re-  visit  to  Portsmouth  in  1816,  and  his  Bt 

form  Bill  troubles,  "Duke  of  Wellington,  you  the  wonders  he  had  seen,  to  the  little  boy  at 

have  seen  a  great  deal  of  the  world.    Can  you  bis  side. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  555 

of  [engagements].  The  wind  is  west,  that  is  to  say  contrary,  so  our 
sailing  on  the  day  after  to-morrow  is  highly  doubtful. 

October  25. — A  gloomy  October  day,  the  wind  inflexibly  constant 
in  the  west,  which  is  fatal.  Sir  James  Graham  proposes  to  wait  upon 
us  after  breakfast.  A  trouble  occurs  about  my  taking  an  oath  before 
a  master-extraordinary  in  Chancery ;  but  such  cannot  easily  be  found, 
as  they  reside  in  chambers  in  town,  and  rusticate  after  business,  so 
they  are  difficult  to  catch  as  an  eel.  At  ten  my  children  set  off  to 
the  dockyard,  which  is  a  most  prodigious  effort  of  machinery,  and 
they  are  promised  the  sight  of  an  anchor  in  the  act  of  being  forged, 
a  most  cyclopean  sight.  Walter  is  to  call  upon  the  solicitor  and  ap- 
point him  to  be  with  [me]  by  twelve. 

About  the  reign  of  Henry  viu.  the  French  took  the  pile,  as  it  was 

called,  of ,'  but  were  beat  off.  About  the  end  of  the  American 

war,  an  individual  named  John  Aitken,  or  John  the  Painter,  under- 
took to  set  the  dockyard  on  fire,  and  in  some  degree  accomplished 
his  purpose.  He  had  no  accomplice,  and  to  support  himself  com- 
mitted solitary  robberies.  Being  discovered,  he  long  hung  in  chains 
near  the  outward  fortifications.  Last  night  a  deputation  of  the  Lit- 
erary and  Philosophical  Society  of  [Portsmouth]  came  to  present  me 
with  the  honorary  freedom  of  their  body,  which  I  accepted  with  be- 
coming gratitude.  There  is  little  credit  in  gathering  the  name  of  a 
disabled  invalid.  Here  I  am,  going  a  long  and  curious  tour  without 
ability  to  walk  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ;  quere,  what  hope  of  recovery  ?  I 
think  and  think  in  vain,  when  attempting  to  trace  the  progress  of  this 
disease,  and  so  gradually  has  my  health  declined,  that  I  believe  it  has 
been  acting  upon  me  for  ten  years,  gradually  diminishing  my  strength. 
My  mental  faculties  may  perhaps  recover ;  my  bodily  strength  cannot 
return  unless  climate  has  an  effect  on  the  human  frame  which  I  can- 
not possibly  believe  or  comprehend.  The  safe  resolution  is,  to  try  no 
foolish  experiments,  but  make  myself  as  easy  as  I  can,  without  suffer- 
ing myself  to  be  vexed  about  what  I  cannot  help.  If  I  sit  on  the 
deck  and  look  at  Vesuvius,  it  will  be  all  I  ought  to  think  of. 

Having  mentioned  John  the  Painter,  I  may  add  that  it  was  in  this 
town  of  Portsmouth  that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  was  stabbed  to 
death  by  Felton,  a  fanatic  of  the  same  kind  with  the  Incendiary,  though 
perpetrator  of  a  more  manly  crime.  This  monster-breeding  age  can 
afford  both  Feltons  and  John  Aitkens  in  abundance.  Every  village 
supplies  them,  while  in  fact  a  deep  feeling  of  the  coarsest  selfishness 
furnishes  the  ruling  motive,  instead  of  an  affectation  of  public  spirit 
— that  hackneyed  affectation  of  patriotism,  as  like  the  reality  as  a 
Birmingham  halfpenny  to  a  guinea. 

The  girls,  I  regret  to  see,  have  got  a  senseless  custom  of  talking 
politics  in  all  weathers  and  in  all  sorts  of  company.  This  can  do  no 
good,  and  may  give  much  offence.  Silence  can  offend  no  one,  and 

1  Compare  Froude's  History,  vol.  iv.  p.  424. 


556  JOURNAL  [Oci. 

there  are  pleasanter  or  less  irritating  subjects  to  talk  of.  I  gave  them 
both  a  hint  of  this,  and  bid  them  both  remember  they  were  among 
ordinary  strangers.  How  little  young  people  reflect  what  they  may 
win  or  lose  by  a  smart  reflection  imprudently  fired  off  at  a  venture.! 

Mr.  Barrow  of  the  Admiralty  came  and  told  us  the  whole  fleet, 
Barham  excepted,  were  ordered  to  the  North  Sea  to  help  to  bully  the 
King  of  Holland,  and  that  Captain  Pigot,  whose  motions  are  of  more 
importance  to  us  than  those  of  the  whole  British  Navy,  sails,  as  cer- 
tainly as  these  things  can  be  prophesied,  on  Thursday,  27th  Octo- 
ber. 

October  26. — Here  we  still  are,  fixed  by  the  inexorable  wind. 
Yesterday  we  asked  a  few  old  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Osborne,  and 
two  or  three  others,  to  tea  and  talk.  I  engaged  in  a  new  novel,  by 
Mr.  Smith,1  called  New  Forest.  It  is  written  in  an  old  style,  calculated 
to  meet  the  popular  ideas — somewhat  like  "  Man  as  he  is  not "  *  and 
that  class.  The  author's  opinions  seem  rather  to  sit  loose  upon  him 
and  to  be  adopted  for  the  nonce  and  not  very  well  brought  out.  '  His 
idea  of  a  hero  is  an  American  philosopher  with  all  the  affected  virtues 
of  a  Republican  which  no  man  believes  in. 

This  is  very  tiresome — not  to  be  able  to  walk  abroad  for  an  in- 
stant, but  to  be  kept  in  this  old  house  which  they  call  "  The  Fount- 
ain," a  mansion  made  of  wood  in  imitation  of  a  ship.  The  timbers 
were  well  tried  last  night  during  the  squall.  The  barometer  has  sunk 
an  inch  very  suddenly,  which  seems  to  argue  a  change,  and  probably 
a  deliverance  from  port.  Sir  Michael  Seymour,  Mr.  Harris,  Captain 
Lawrence  came  to  greet  us  after  breakfast ;  also  Sir  James  Graham. 
They  were  all  learned  on  this  change  of  weather  which  seems  to  be 
generally  expected.  I  had  a  good  mess  of  Tory  chat  with  Mr.  Harris. 
We  hope  to  see  his  daughters  in  the  evening.  He  keeps  his  courage 
amid  the  despair  of  too  many  of  his  party.  About  one  o'clock  our 
Kofle,  as  Mungo  Park  words  it,  set  out,  self  excluded,  to  witness  the 
fleet  sailing  from  the  ramparts. 

October  27. — The  weather  is  more  moderate  and  there  is  a  chance 
of  our  sailing.  We  whiled  away  our  time  as  we  could,  relieved  by  sev- 
eral kind  visits.  We  realised  the  sense  of  hopeless  expectation  de- 
scribed by  Fielding  in  his  Voyage  to  Lisbon,  which  identical  tract 
Captain  Hall,  who  in  his  eagerness  to  be  kind  seems  in  possession  of 
the  wishing-cap  of  Fortunatus,  was  able  to  provide  for  us.  To-mor- 
row is  spoken  of  as  certainly  a  day  to  move. 

October  28. — But  the  wind  is  as  unfavourable  as  ever  and  I  take 
a  hobbling  morning  walk  upon  the  rampart,  where  I  am  edified  by 
a  good-natured  officer  who  shows  me  the  place,  marked  by  a  buoy, 
where  the  Royal  George  went  down  "with  twice  four  hundred  men." ' 
Its  hull  forms  a  shoal  which  is  still  in  existence,  a  neglect  scarcely 

1  Mr.  Horace  Smith,  one  of  the  authors  of          *  An  anonymous  novel,  published  some  years 
Rejected  Addresses.  earlier  in  4  vols.  12mo. 

8  Cowper's  Monody. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  557 

reconcilable  with  the  splendour  of  our  proceedings  where  our  navy 
is  concerned.  Saw  a  battle  on  the  rampart  between  two  sailor  boys, 
who  fought  like  game-cocks.  Returned  to  "  The  Fountain,"  to  a  vo- 
luminous breakfast.  Captain  Pigot  calls,  with  little  hope  of  sailing 
to-day.  I  made  my  civil  affidavit  yesterday  to  a  master-extraordinary 
in  Chancery,  which  I  gave  to  Sophia  last  night. 

October  29  (The  Barham). — The  weather  is  changed  and  I  think 
we  shall  sail.  Captain  Forbes  comes  with  offer  of  the  Admiral  Sir 
Michael  Seymour's  barge,  but  we  must  pause  on  our  answer.  I  have 
had  a  very  disturbed  night.  Captain  Pigot's  summons  is  at  length 
brought  by  his  own  announcement,  and  the  same  time  the  Admiral's 
barge  attends  for  our  accommodation  and  puts  us  and  our  baggage 
on  board  the  Barham,  a  beautiful  ship,  a  74  cut  down  to  a  50,  and 
well  deserving  all  the  commendations  bestowed  on  her.  The  weather 
a  calm  which  is  almost  equal  to  a  favourable  wind,  so  we  glide  beau- 
tifully along  by  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  the  outside  of  the  island.  We 
landsfolk  feel  these  queerish  sensations,  when,  without  being  in  the 
least  sick,  we  are  not  quite  well.  We  dine  enormously  and  take  our 
cot  at  nine  o'clock,  when  we  sleep  undisturbed  till  seven. 

October  30. — Find  the  Bill  of  Portland  in  sight,  having  run  about 
forty  miles  during  the  night.  About  the  middle  of  the  day  turn  sea- 
sick and  retire  to  my  berth  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

October  31. — A  sleepless  night  and  a  bilious  morning,  yet  not  so 
very  uncomfortable  as  the  phrase  may  imply.  The  bolts  clashed,  and 
made  me  dream  of  poor  Bran.  The  wind  being  nearly  completely 
contrary,  we  have  by  ten  o'clock  gained  Plymouth  and  of  course  will 
stand  westward  for  Cape  Finisterre ;  terrible  tossing  and  much  sea- 
sickness, beating  our  passage  against  the  turn.  I  may  as  well  say  we 
had  a  parting  visit  from  Lady  Graham,  who  came  off  in  a  steamer, 
saluted  us  in  the  distance  and  gave  us  by  signal  her  "  bon  voyage." 
On  Sunday  we  had  prayers  and  Service  from  Mr.  Marshall,  our  Chap- 
lain, a  Trinity  College  youth,  who  made  a  very  respectable  figure. 


NO  VEMBER 

November  1. — The  night  was  less  dismal  than  yesterday,  and  we 
hold  our  course,  though  with  an  unfavourable  wind,  and  make,  it  is 
said,  about  forty  miles  progress.  After  all,  this  sort  of  navigation 
recommends  the  steamer,  which  forces  its  way  whether  the  breeze 
will  or  no. 

November  2. — Wind  as  cross  as  two  sticks,  with  nasty  squalls  of 
wind  and  rain.  We  keep  dodging  about  the  Lizard  and  Land's  End 
without  ever  getting  out  of  sight  of  these  interesting  terminations  of 
Old  England.  Keep  the  deck  the  whole  day  though  bitter  cold. 
Betake  myself  to  my  berth  at  nine,  though  it  is  liker  to  my  coffin. 

November  3. — Sea-sickness  has  pretty  much  left  us,  but  the  nights 
are  far  from  voluptuous,  as  Lord  Stowell  says.  After  breakfast  I  es- 
tablished myself  in  the  after-cabin  to  read  and  write  as  well  as  I  can, 
whereof  this  is  a  bad  specimen. 

November  4. — The  current  unfavourable,  and  the  ship  pitching  a 
great  deal ;  yet  the  vessel  on  the  whole  keeps  her  course,  and  we  get 
on  our  way  with  hope  of  reaching  Cape  Finisterre  when  it  shall  please 
God. 

November  5. — We  still  creep  on  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day 
without  being  able  to  make  way,  but  also  without  losing  any.  Mean- 
while, Frdhlich!  we  become  freed  from  the  nausea  and  disgust  of  the 
sea-sickness  and  are  chirruping  merrily.  Spend  the  daylight  chiefly 
on  deck,  where  the  sailors  are  trained  in  exercising  the  great  guns  on 
a  new  sort  of  carriage  called,  from  the  inventor,  Marshall's,  which 
seems  ingenious. 

November  6. — No  progress  to-day  ;  the  ship  begins  to  lay  her 
course  but  makes  no  great  way.  Appetite  of  the  passengers  excel- 
lent, which  we  amuse  at  the  expense  of  the  sea  stock.  Cold  beef  and 
biscuit.  I  feel  myself  very  helpless  on  board,  but  everybody  is  ready 
to  assist  me. 

November  7. — The  wind  still  holds  fair,  though  far  from  blowing 
steadily,  but  by  fits  and  variably.  No  object  to  look  at — 

"  One  wide  water  all  around  us, 
All  above  us  one  '  grey '  sky."  * 

There  are  neither  birds  in  the  air,  fish  in  the  sea,  nor  objects  on  face 

>  See  Sailor's  Song,  Cease,  rude  Bor«M,  etc.,  ante,  p.  539:  "The  Storm." 


Nov.  1831.]  JOURNAL  559 

of  the  waters.  It  is  odd  that  though  once  so  great  a  smoker  I  now 
never  think  on  a  cigar ;  so  much  the  better. 

November  8. — As  we  begin  to  get  southward  we  feel  a  milder  and 
more  pleasing  temperature,  and  the  wind  becomes  decidedly  favour- 
able when  we  have  nearly  traversed  the  famous  Bay  of  Biscay.  We 
now  get  into  a  sort  of  trade  wind  blowing  from  the  East. 

November  9. — This  morning  run  seventy  miles  from  twelve  at 
night.  This  is  something  like  going.  Till  now,  bating  the  rolling 
and  pitching,  we  lay 

"...  as  idle  as  a  painted  ship 
Upon  a  painted  ocean." 

November  10. — Wind  changes  and  is  both  mild  and  favourable. 
We  pass  Cape  Ortegal,  see  a  wild  cluster  of  skerries  or  naked  rocks 
called  Berlingas  rising  out  of  the  sea  like  M'Leod's  Maidens  off  the 
Isle  of  Skye. 

November  11. — Wind  still  more  moderate  and  fair,  yet  it  is  about 
eleven  knots  an  hour.  We  pass  Oporto  and  Lisbon  in  the  night. 
See  the  coast  of  Portugal :  a  bare  wild  country,  with  here  and  there 
a  church  or  convent.  If  it  keeps  fair  this  evening  we  [make]  Gibral- 
tar, which  would  be  very  desirable.  Our  sailors  have  been  exercised 
at  a  species  of  sword  exercise,  which  recalls  many  recollections. 

November  12. — The  favourable  wind  gets  back  to  its  quarters  in 
the  south-west,  and  becomes  what  the  Italians  call  the  Sirocco,  abom- 
inated for  its  debilitating  qualities.  I  cannot  say  I  feel  them,  but  I 
dreamt  dreary  dreams  all  night,  which  are  probably  to  be  imputed  to 
the  Sirocco.  After  all,  it  is  not  an  uncomfortable  wind  to  a  Caledo- 
nian wild  and  stern.  Ink  won't  serve. 

November  13. — The  wind  continues  unaccommodating  all  night, 
and  we  see  nothing,  although  we  promised  ourselves  to  have  seen 
Gibraltar,  or  at  least  Tangiers,  this  morning,  but  we  are  disappointed 
of  both.  Tangiers  reminded  me  of  my  old  Antiquarian  friend  Au- 
riol  Hay  Drummond,  who  is  Consul  there.1  Certainly  if  a  human 
voice  could  have  made  its  hail  heard  through  a  league  or  two  of  con- 
tending wind  and  wave,  it  must  have  been  Auriol  Drummond's.  I  re- 
member him  at  a  dinner  given  by  some  of  his  friends  when  he  left 
Edinburgh,  where  he  discharged  a  noble  part  "  self  pulling  like  Cap- 
tain Crowe  '  for  dear  life,  for  dear  life '  against  the  whole  boat's 
crew,"  speaking,  that  is,  against  30  members  of  a  drunken  company 
and  maintaining  the  predominance.  Mons  Meg  was  at  that  time  his 
idol.  He  had  a  sort  of  avarice  of  proper  names,  and,  besides  half  a- 
dozen  which  were  his  legitimately,  he  had  a  claim  to  be  called  Garvadh, 
which  uncouth  appellation  he  claimed  on  no  very  good  authority  to 
be  the  ancient  name  of  the  Hays — a  tale.  I  loved  him  dearly ;  he 

1  Sec  ante,  p.  1G6,  note. 


560  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

had  high  spirits,  a  zealous  faith,  good-humour,  and  enthusiasm,  and  it 
grieves  me  that  I  must  pass  within  ten  miles  of  him  and  leave  him 
unsaluted ;  for  mercy-a-ged  what  a  yell  of  gratitude  would  there  be ! 
I  would  put  up  with  a  good  rough  gale  which  would  force  us  into 
Tangiers  and  keep  us  there  for  a  week,  but  the  wind  is  only  in  gen- 
tle opposition,  like  a  well-drilled  spouse.  Gibraltar  we  shall  see  this 
evening,  Tangiers  becomes  out  of  the  question.  Captain  says  we  will 
lie  by  during  the  night,  sooner  than  darkness  shall  devour  such  an  ob- 
ject of  curiosity,  so  we  must  look  sharp  for  the  old  rock. 

November  14. — The  horizon  is  this  morning  full  of  remembrances. 
Cape  St.  Vincent,  Cape  Spartel,  Tarifa,  Trafalgar — all  spirit-stirring 
sounds,  are  within  our  ken,  and  recognised  with  enthusiasm  both  by 
the  old  sailors  whose  memory  can  reinvest  them  with  their  terrors, 
and  by  the  naval  neophytes  who  hope  to  emulate  the  deeds  of  their 
fathers.  Even  a  non-combatant  like  myself  feels  his  heart  beat  fast- 
er and  fuller,  though  it  is  only  with  the  feeling  of  the  unworthy  boast 
of  the  substance  in  the  fable,  nos  poma  natamus. 

I  begin  to  ask  myself,  Do  I  feel  any  symptoms  of  getting  better 
from  the  climate  ? — which  is  delicious, — and  I  cannot  reply  with  the 
least  consciousness  of  certainty ;  I  cannot  in  reason  expect  it  should 
be  otherwise :  the  failure  of  my  limbs  has  been  gradual,  and  it  cannot 
be  expected  that  an  infirmity  which  at  least  a  year's  bad  weather 
gradually  brought  on  should  diminish  before  a  few  mild  and  serene 
days,  but  I  think  there  is  some  change  to  the  better ;  I  certainly 
write  easier  and  my  spirits  are  better.  The  officers  compliment  me  on 
this,  and  I  think  justly.  The  difficulty  will  be  to  abstain  from  work- 
ing hard,  but  we  will  try.  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Cadell  to-day,  and  will 
send  my  letter  ashore  to  be  put  into  Gibraltar  with  the  officer  who 
leaves  us  at  that  garrison.  In  the  evening  we  saw  the  celebrated  for- 
tress, which  we  had  heard  of  all  our  lives,  and  which  there  is  no  pos- 
sibility of  describing  well  in  words,  though  the  idea  I  had  formed  of 
it  from  prints,  panoramas,  and  so  forth,  proved  not  very  inaccurate. 
Gibraltar,  then,  is  a  peninsula  having  a  tremendous  precipice  on  the 
Spanish  side — that  is,  upon  the  north,  where  it  is  united  to  the  main- 
land by  a  low  slip  of  land  called  the  neutral  ground.  The  fortifica- 
tions which  rise  on  the  rock  are  innumerable,  and  support  each  other 
in  a  manner  accounted  a  model  of  modern  art ;  the  northern  face  of 
the  rock  itself  is  hewn  into  tremendous  subterranean  batteries  called 
the  hall  of  Saint  George,  and  so  forth,  mounted  with  guns  of  a  large 
calibre.  But  I  have  heard  it  would  be  difficult  to  use  them,  from  the 
effect  of  the  report  on  the  artillerymen.  The  west  side  of  the  fortress 
is  not  so  precipitous  as  the  north,  and  it  is  on  this  it  has  been  usually 
assailed.  It  bristles  with  guns  and  batteries,  and  has  at  its  northern 
extremity  the  town  of  Gibraltar,  which  seems  from  the  sea  a  thriving 
place,  and  from  thence  declines  gradually  to  Cape  Europa,  where 
there  is  a  great  number  of  remains  of  old  caverns  and  towers,  formerly 
the  habitation  or  refuge  of  the  Moors.  At  a  distance,  and  curving 


1831.]  JOURNAL  561 

into  a  bay,  lie  Algeciras,  and  the  little  Spanish  town  of  Saint  Roque, 
where  the  Spanish  lines  were  planted  during  the  siege.1  From  Europa 
Point  the  eastern  frontier  of  Gibraltar  runs  pretty  close  to  the  sea, 
and  arises  in  a  perpendicular  face,  and  it  is  called  the  back  of  the 
rock.  No  thought  could  be  entertained  of  attacking  it,  although 
every  means  were  used  to  make  the  assault  as  general  as  possible. 
The  efforts  sustained  by  such  extraordinary  means  as  the  floating 
batteries  were  entirely  directed  against  the  defences  on  the  west  side, 
which,  if  they  could  have  been  continued  for  a  few  days  with  the 
same  fury  with  which  they  commenced,  must  have  worn  out  the  force 
of  the  garrison.  The  assault  had  continued  for  several  hours  without 
success  on  either  side,  when  a  private  man  of  the  artillery,  his  eye  on 
the  floating  batteries,  suddenly  called  with  ecstasy,  "  She  burns,  by 
G — !  ";*  and  first  that  vessel  and  then  others  were  visibly  discovered 
to  be  on  fire,  and  the  besiegers'  game  was  decidedly  up. 

We  stood  into  the  Bay  of  Gibraltar  and  approached  the  harbour 
firing  a  gun  and  hoisting  a  signal  for  a  boat :  one  accordingly  came 
off — a  man-of-war's  boat — but  refused  to  have  any  communication 
with  us  on  account  of  the  quarantine,  so  we  can  send  no  letters 

ashore,  and  after  some  pourparlers,  Mr.  L ,  instead  of  joining  his 

regiment,  must  remain  on  board.  We  learned  an  unpleasant  piece  of 
news.  There  has  been  a  tumult  at  Bristol  and  some  rioters  shot,  it  is 
said  fifty  or  sixty.  I  would  flatter  myself  that  this  is  rather  good 
news,  since  it  seems  to  be  no  part  of  a  formed  insurrection,  but  an 
accidental  scuffle  in  which  the  mob  have  had  the  worst,  and  which, 
like  Tranent/Manchester,  and  Bonnymoor,  have  always  had  the  effect 
of  quieting  the  people  and  alarming  men  of  property.8  The  Whigs 
will  find  it  impossible  to  permit  men  to  be  plundered  by  a  few  black- 
guards called  by  them  the  people,  and  education  and  property  prob- 
ably will  recover  an  ascendency  which  they  have  only  lost  by  faint- 
heartedness. 

We  backed  out  of  the  Bay  by  means  of  a  current  to  the  eastward, 
which  always  runs  thence,  admiring  in  our  retreat  the  lighting  up  the 
windows  in  the  town  and  the  various  barracks  or  country  seats  visible 
on  the  rock.  Far  as  we  are  from  home,  the  general  lighting  up  of 
the  windows  in  the  evening  reminds  us  we  are  still  in  merry  old  Eng- 
land, where  in  reverse  of  its  ancient  law  of  the  curfew,  almost  every 
individual,  however  humble  his  station,  takes  as  of  right  a  part  of  the 
evening  for  enlarging  the  scope  of  his  industry  or  of  his  little  pleas- 
ures. He  trims  his  lamp  to  finish  at  leisure  some  part  of  his  task, 

>  Lasting  from  21st  June,  1779,  to  6th  Febru-  comforts  me  under  my  calamity  is  that  the 

ary,  1783.  honour  of  the  two  kings  remains  untarnished." 

»  Compare  the  reflection  of  the  Chevalier  — Mahon's  History  of  England,  vol.  vii.  p.  290. 

d'Arcon.  the  contriver  of  the  floating  batter-  3  Nothing  like  these  Bristol  riots  bad  oc- 

ies.     He  remained  on  board  the  Talla  Piedra  curred  since  those  iu  Birmingham  in  1791.— 

till  past  midnight,  and  wrote  to  the  French  Martineau's  History  of  the  Peace,  p.  353.    The 

Ambassador  in  the  first  hours  of  his  anguish:  Tranent  (East  Lothian)  and  Bonnymoor  (Stir- 

"I  have  burnt  the  Temple  of  Ephf>su=;  every-  lingshire)  conflicts  took  place  in  1797  and  1820; 

thing  is  gone,  and  through  my  fault:     What  the  Manchester  riot  in  1826, 
36 


662  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

which  seems  in  such  circumstances  almost  voluntary,  while  his  wife 
prepares  the  little  meal  which  is  to  be  its  legitimate  reward.  But  this 
happy  privilege  of  English  freemen  has  ceased.  One  happiness  it  is, 
they  will  soon  learn  their  error. 

November  15. — I  had  so  much  to  say  about  Gibraltar  that  I  omit- 
ted all  mention  of  the  Strait,  and  more  distant  shores  of  Spain  and 
Barbary,  which  form  the  extreme  of  our  present  horizon  ;  they  are 
highly  interesting.  A  chain  of  distant  mountains  sweep  round  Gib- 
raltar, bold  peaked,  well  defined,  and  deeply  indented ;  the  most  dis- 
tinguishable points  occasionally  garnished  with  an  old  watch-tower  to 
afford  protection  against  a  corsair.  The  mountains  seemed  like  those 
of  the  first  formation,  liker,  in  other  words,  to  the  Highlands  than 
those  of  the  South  of  Scotland.  The  chains  of  hills  in  Barbary  are 
of  the  same  character,  but  more  lofty  and  much  more  distant,  being, 
I  conceive,  a  part  of  the  celebrated  ridge  of  Atlas. 

Gibraltar  is  one  of  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  Ceuta,  on  the  Moorish 
side  is  well  known  to  be  the  other;  to  the  westward  of  a  small  for- 
tress garrisoned  by  the  Spaniards  is  the  Hill  of  Apes,  the  correspond- 
ing pillar  to  Gibraltar.  There  is  an  extravagant  tradition  that  there 
was  once  a  passage  under  the  sea  from  the  one  fortress  to  the  other, 
and  that  an  adventurous  governor,  who  puzzled  his  way  to  Ceuta  and 
back  again,  left  his  gold  watch  as  a  prize  to  him  who  had  the  courage 
to  go  to  seek  it. 

We  are  soon  carried  by  the  joint  influence  of  breeze  and  current 
to  the  African  side  of  the  straits,  and  coast  nearly  along  a  wild  shore 
formed  of  mountains,  like  those  of  Spain,  of  varied  form  and  outline. 
No  churches,  no  villages,  no  marks  of  human  hand  are  seen.  The 
chain  of  hills  show  a  mockery  of  cultivation,  but  it  is  only  wild  heath 
intermingled  with  patches  of  barren  sand.  I  look  in  vain  for  cattle 
or  flocks  of  sheep,  and  Anne  as  vainly  entertains  hopes  of  seeing 
lions  and  tigers  on  a  walk  to  the  sea-shore.  The  land  of  this  wild 
country  seems  to  have  hardly  a  name.  The  Cape  which  we  are 
doubling  has  one,  however — the  Cape  of  the  Three  Points.  That  we 
might  not  be  totally  disappointed  we  saw  one  or  two  men  engaged 
apparently  in  ploughing,  distinguished  by  their  turbans  and  the  long 
pikes  which  they  carried.  Dr.  Liddell  says  that  on  former  occasions 
he  has  seen  flocks  and  shepherds,  but  the  war  with  France  has  prob- 
ably laid  the  country  waste. 

November  16. — When  I  waked  about  seven  found  that  we  had  the 
town  of  Oran  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  off  astern.  It  is  a  large  place 
on  the  sea-beach,  near  the  bottom  of  a  bay,  built  close  and  packed 
together  as  Moorish  [towns],  from  Fez  to  Timbuctoo,  usually  are.  A 
considerable  hill  runs  behind  the  town,  which  seems  capable  of  hold- 
ing 10,000  inhabitants.  The  hill  up  to  its  eastern  summit  is  secured 
by  three  distinct  lines  of  fortification,  made  probably  by  the  Spanish 
when  Oran  was  in  their  possession ;  latterly  it  belonged  to  the  State 
of  Algiers ;  but  whether  it  has  yielded  to  the  French  or  not  we  have 


1831.]  JOURNAL  563 

no  means  of  knowing.  A  French  schooner  of  eighteen  guns  seems 
to  blockade  the  harbour.  We  show  our  colours,  and  she  displays 
hers,  and  then  resumes  her  cruise,  looking  as  if  she  resumed  her 
blockade.  This  would  infer  that  the  place  is  not  yet  in  French 
hands.  However,  we  have  in  any  event  no  business  with  Oran, 
whether  African  or  French.  Bristol  is  a  more  important  subject  of 
consideration,  but  I  cannot  learn  there  are  papers  on  board.  One  or 
two  other  towns  we  saw  on  this  dreary  coast,  otherwise  nothing  but 
a  hilly  coast  covered  with  shingle  and  gum  cistus. 

November  17. — In  the  morning  we  are  off  Algiers,  of  which  Cap- 
tain Pigot's  complaisance  afforded  a  very  satisfactory  sight.  It  is 
built  on  a  sloping  hill,  running  down  to  the  sea,  and  on  the  water 
side  is  extremely  strong ;  a  very  strong  mole  or  causeway  enlarges  the 
harbour,  by  enabling  them  to  include  a  little  rocky  island,  and  mount 
immense  batteries,  with  guns  of  great  number  and  size.  It  is  a  won- 
der, in  the  opinion  of  all  judges,  that  Lord  Exmouth's  fleet  was  not 
altogether  cut  to  pieces.  The  place  is  of  little  strength  to  the  land ; 
a  high  turreted  wall  of  the  old  fashion  is  its  best  defence.  When 
Charles  v.  attacked  Algiers,  he  landed  in  the  bay  to  the  east  of  the 
town,  and  marched  behind  it.  He  afterwards  reached  what  is  still 
called  the  Emperor's  fort,  a  building  more  highly  situated  than  any 
part  of  the  town,  and  commanding  the  wall  which  surrounds  it.  The 
Moors  did  not  destroy  this.  When  Bourmont  landed  with  the  French, 
unlike  Charles  v.,  that  general  disembarked  to  the  westward  of  Al- 
giers, and  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  river ;  he  then  marched  into  the 
interior,  and,  fetching  a  circuit,  presented  himself  on  the  northern, 
side  of  the  town.  Here  the  Moors  had  laid  a  simple  stratagem  for 
the  destruction  of  the  invading  army.  The  natives  had  conceived 
they  would  rush  at  once  to  the  fort  of  the  Emperor,  which  they 
therefore  mined,  and  expected  to  destroy  a  number  of  the  enemy  by 
its  explosion.  This  obvious  device  of  war  was  easily  avoided,  and 
General  Bourmont,  in  possession  of  the  heights,  from  which  Algiers 
is  commanded,  had  no  difficulty  in  making  himself  master  of  the 
place.  The  French  are  said  now  to  hold  their  conquests  with  diffi- 
culty, owing  to  a  general  commotion  among  the  Moorish  chiefs,  of 
whom  the  Bey  was  the  nominal  sovereign.  To  make  war  on  these 
wild  tribes  would  be  to  incur  the  disaster  of  the  Emperor  Julian  ;  to 
neglect  their  aggressions  is  scarcely  possible. 

Algiers  has  at  first  an  air  of  diminutiveness  inferior  to  its  fame  in 
ancient  and  modern  times.  It  rises  up  from  the  shore  like  a  wedge, 
composed  of  a  large  mass  of  close-packed  white  houses,  piled  as  thick 
on  each  other  as  they  can  stand  ;  white-terraced  roofs,  and  without 
windows,  so  the  number  of  its  inhabitants  must  be  immense,  in  com- 
parison to  the  ground  the  buildings  occupy — not  less,  perhaps,  than 
30,000  men.  Even  from  the  distance  we  view  it,  the  place  has  a  sin- 
gular Oriental  look,  very  dear  to  the  imagination.  The  country  around 
Algiers  is  [of]  the  same  hilly  description  with  the  ground  on  which 


564  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

the  town  is  situated — a  bold  hilly  tract.  The  shores  of  the  bay  are 
studded  with  villas,  and  exhibit  enclosures :  some  used  for  agricult- 
ure, some  for  gardens,  one  for  a  mosque,  with  a  cemetery  around  it. 
It  is  said  they  are  extremely  fertile ;  the  first  example  we  have  seen 
of  the  exuberance  of  the  African  soil.  The  villas,  we  are  told,  belong 
to  the  Consular  Establishment.  We  saw  our  own,  who,  if  at  home, 
put  no  remembrance  upon  us.  Like  the  Cambridge  Professor  and 
the  elephant,  "  We  were  a  paltry  beast,"  and  he  would  not  see  us, 
though  we  drew  within  cannon  [shot],  and  our  fifty  36 -pounders 
might  have  attracted  some  attention.  The  Moors  showed  their  old 
cruelty  on  a  late  occasion.  The  crews  of  two  foreign  vessels  having 
fallen  into  their  hands  by  shipwreck,  they  murdered  two-thirds  of 
them  in  cold  blood.  There  are  reports  of  a  large  body  of  French 
cavalry  having  shown  itself  without  the  town.  It  is  also  reported  by 
Lieutenant  Walker,1  that  the  Consul  hoisted,  comme  de  raison,  a  Brit- 
ish flag  at  his  country  house,  so  our  vanity  is  safe. 

We  leave  Algiers  and  run  along  the  same  kind  of  heathy,  cliffy, 
barren  reach  of  hills,  terminating  in  high  lines  of  serrated  ridges,  and 
scarce  showing  an  atom  of  cultivation,  but  where  the  mouth  of  a  riv- 
er or  a  sheltering  bay  has  encouraged  the  Moors  to  some  species  of 
fortification. 

November  18. — Still  we  are  gliding  along  the  coast  of  Africa,  with 
a  steady  and  unruffled  gale ;  the  weather  delicious.  Talk  of  an  isl- 
and of  wild  goats,  by  name  Golita ;  this  species  of  deer-park  is  free 
to  every  one  for  shooting  upon — belongs  probably  to  the  Algerines 
or  Tunisians,  whom  circumstances  do  not  permit  to  be  very  scrupu- 
lous in  asserting  their  right  of  dominion ;  but  Dr.  Liddell  has  him- 
self been  present  at  a  grand  chasse  of  the  goats,  so  the  thing  is  true. 

The  wild  sinuosities  of  the  land  make  us  each  moment  look  to 
see  a  body  of  Arabian  cavalry  wheel  at  full  gallop  out  of  one  of  these 
valleys,  scour  along  the  beach,  and  disappear  up  some  other  recess  of 
the  hills.  In  fact  we  see  a  few  herds,  but  a  red  cow  is  the  most  for- 
midable monster  we  have  seen. 

A  general  day  of  exercise  on  board,  as  well  great  guns  as  small 
arms.  It  was  very  entertaining  to  see  the  men  take  to  their  quarters 
with  the  unanimity  of  an  individual.  The  marines  shot  a  target  to 
pieces,  the  boarders  scoured  away  to,  take  their  position  on  the  yards 
with  cutlass  and  pistof.  The  exhibition  continued  two  hours,  and  was 
loud  enough  to  nave  alarmed  the  shores,  where  the  Algerines  might, 
if  they  had  thought  fit,  have  imputed  the  firing  to  an  opportune 
quarrel  between  the  French  and  British,  and  have  shouted  "  Allah 
Kerim  " — God  is  merciful !  This  was  the  Dey's  remark  when  he 
heard  that  Charles  x.  was  dethroned  by  the  Parisians. 

We  are  near  an  African  Cape  called  Bugiaroni,  where,  in  the  last 
war,  the  Toulon  fleet  used  to  trade  for  cattle. 

1  Afterwards  Admiral  Sir  Baldwin  Walker,  so  long  in  command  of  the  Turkish  Navy. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  565 

November  19. — Wind  favourable  during  night,  dies  away  in  the 
morning,  and  blows  in  flurries  rather  contrary.  The  steamboat  pack- 
et, which  left  Portsmouth  at  the  same  time  with  us,  passes  us  about 
seven  o'clock,  and  will  reach  a  day  or  two  before  us.  We  are  now  off 
the  coast  of  Tunis :  not  so  high  and  rocky  as  that  of  Algiers,  and  ap- 
parently much  more  richly  cultivated.  A  space  of  considerable  length 
along  shore,  between  a  conical  hill  called  Mount  Baluty  and  Cape 
Bon,  which  we  passed  last  night,  is  occupied  by  the  French  as  a  coral 
fishery.  They  drop  heavy  shot  by  lines  on  the  coral  rocks  and  break 
off  fragments  which  they  fish  up  with  nets.  The  Algerines,  seizing 
about  200  Neapolitans  thus  employed  gave  rise  to  the  bombardment 
of  their  town  by  Lord  Exmouth.  All  this  coast  is  picturesquely  cov- 
ered with  enclosures  and  buildings  and  is  now  clothed  with  squally 
weather.  One  hill  has  a  smoky  umbrella  displayed  over  its  peak, 
which  is  very  like  a  volcano — many  islets  and  rocks  bearing  the  Ital- 
ian names  of  sisters,  brothers,  dogs,  and  suchlike  epithets.  The  view 
is  very  striking,  with  varying  rays  of  light  and  of  shade  mingling  and 
changing  as  the  wind  rises  and  falls.  About  one  o'clock  we  pass  the 
situation  of  ancient  Carthage,  but  saw  no  ruins,  though  such  are  said 

to  exist.     A  good  deal  of  talk  about  two  ancient  lakes  called ;  I 

knew  the  name,  but  little  more.  We  passed  in  the  evening  two 
rocky  islands,  or  skerries,  rising  straight  out  of  the  water,  called  Gli 
Fratelli  or  The  Brothers. 

November  20. — A  fair  wind  all  night,  running  at  the  merry  rate 
of  nine  knots  an  hour.  In  the  morning  we  are  in  sight  of  the  highest 
island,  Pantellaria,  which  the  Sicilians  use  as  a  state  prison,  a  species 
of  Botany  Bay.  We  are  about  thirty  miles  from  the  burning  island — 
I  mean  Graham's — but  neither  that  nor  Etna  make  their  terrors  visi- 
ble. At  noon  Graham's  Island  appears,  greatly  diminished  since  last 
accounts.  We  got  out  the  boats  and  surveyed  this  new  production 
of  the  earth  with  great  interest.  Think  I  have  got  enough  to  make 
a  letter  to  our  Royal  Society  and  friends  at  Edinburgh.1  Lat.  37° 
10'  31"  N.,  long.  12°  40'  15"  E.,  lying  north  and  south  by  compass, 
by  Mr.  Bokely,  the  Captain's  clerk['s  measurements].  Returned  on 
board  at  dinner-time. 

November  21. — Indifferent  night.  In  the  morning  we  are  running 
off  Gozo,  a  subordinate  island  to  Malta,  intersected  with  innumerable 
enclosures  of  dry-stone  dykes  similar  to  those  used  in  Selkirkshire, 
and  this  likeness  is  increased  by  the  appearance  of  sundry  square 
towers  of  ancient  days.  In  former  times  this  was  believed  to  be 
Calypso's  island,  and  the  cave  of  the  enchantress  is  still  shown.  We 
saw  the  entrance  from  the  deck,  as  rude  a  cavern  as  ever  opened  out 
of  a  granite  rock.  The  place  of  St.  Paul's  shipwreck  is  also  shown, 
no  doubt  on  similarly  respectable  authority. 

At  last  we  opened  Malta,  an  island,  or  rather  a  city,  like  no  other 

i  See  long  letter  to  Mr.  Skene  in  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  126-130. 


566  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

in  the  world.  The  seaport,  formerly  the  famous  Valetta,  comes 
down  to  the  sea-shore.  On  the  one  side  lay  the  [Knights],  on  the 
other  side  lay  the  Turks,  who  finally  got  entire  possession  of  it,  while 
the  other  branch  remained  in  the  power  of  the  Christians.  Mutual 
cruelties  were  exercised ;  the  Turks,  seizing  on  the  survivors  of  the 
knights  who  had  so  long  defended  St.  Elmo,  cut  the  Maltese  cross 
on  the  bodies  of  the  slain,  and,  tying  them  to  planks,  let  them 
drift  with  the  receding  tide  into  the  other  branch  of  the  harbour 
still  defended  by  the  Christians.  The  Grand  -  Master,  in  resent- 
ment of  this  cruelty,  caused  his  Turkish  prisoners  to  be  decap- 
itated and  their  heads  thrown  from  mortars  into  the  camp  of  the 
infidels.1 

November  22. — To-day  we  entered  Malta  harbour,  to  quarantine, 
which  is  here  very  strict.  We  are  condemned  by  the  Board  of  Quar- 
antine to  ten  day's  imprisonment  or  sequestration,  and  go  in  the  Bar- 
kam's  boat  to  our  place  of  confinement,  built  by  a  Grand-Master 
named  Manuel8  for  a  palace  for  himself  and  his  retinue.  It  is  spa- 
cious and  splendid,  but  not  comfortable ;  the  rooms  connected  one 
with  another  by  an  arcade,  into  which  they  all  open,  and  which  forms 
a  delightful  walk.  If  I  was  to  live  here  a  sufficient  time  I  think  I 
could  fit  the  apartments  up  so  as  to  be  handsome,  and  even  imposing, 
but  at  present  they  are  only  kept  as  barracks  for  the  infirmary  or 
lazaretto.  A  great  number  of  friends  come  to  see  me,  who  are  not 
allowed  to  approach  nearer  than  a  yard.  This,  as  the  whole  affair  is 
a  farce,  is  ridiculous  enough.  We  are  guarded  by  the  officers  of 
health  in  a  peculiar  sort  of  livery  or  uniform  with  yellow  neck,  who 
stroll  up  and  down  with  every  man  that  stirs — and  so  mend  the 
matter.3  My  friends  Captain  and  Mrs.  Dawson,  the  daughter  and 
son-in-law  of  the  late  Lord  Kinnedder,  occupying  as  military  quarters 
one  end  of  the  Manuel  palace,  have  chosen  to  remain,  though  thereby 
subjected  to  quarantine,  and  so  become  our  fellows  in  captivity.  Our 
good  friend  Captain  Pigot,  hearing  some  exaggerated  report  of  our 
being  uncomfortably  situated,  came  himself  in  his  barge  with  the  pur- 
pose of  reclaiming  his  passengers  rather  than  we  should  be  subjected 
to  the  least  inconvenience.  We  returned  our  cordial  thanks,  but  felt 
we  had  already  troubled  him  sufficiently.  We  dine  with  Captain  and 
Mrs.  Dawson,  sleep  in  our  new  quarters,  and,  notwithstanding  mos- 
quito curtains  and  iron  bedsteads,  are  sorely  annoyed  by  vermin,  the 
only  real  hardship  we  have  to  complain  of  since  the  tossing  on  the 
Bay  of  Biscay,  and  which  nothing  could  save  us  from. 

Les  Maltois  ne  se  mariaient  jamais  dans  le  mois  de  mai.     Us 

'  In  the  memorable  siege  of  1565.  hour.    One  of  our  seamen  was  brushed  from 

*  Manuel  de  Vilhena,  Grand -Master  1722-  the  main  yard,  fell  into  the  sea  and  began  to 

1736.  swim  for  his  life.    The  Maltese  boats  bore  off 

3  An  example  of  the  rigour  with  which  the  to  avoid  giving  him  assistance,  but  an  English 

Quarantine  laws  were  enforced  is  given  by  Sir  boat,  less  knowing,  picked  up  the  poor  fellow, 

Walter  on  the  24th : — "  We  had  an  instance  of  and  were  immediately  assigned  to  the  comforts 

the  strictness  of  these  regulations  from  an  ac-  of  the  Quarantine,  that  being  the  Maltese  cus- 

cideut  which  befell  us  as  we  entered  the  bar-  torn  of  rewarding  humanity.  "—Letter  to  j.  o.  L. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  567 

espererent  si  mal  des  ouvrages  de  tout  genere  commence  durant  son 
cours  qu'ils  ne  se  faisaient  pas  couper  d'habits  pendant  ce  mois. 

The  same  superstition  still  prevails  in  Scotland. 

November  23. — This  is  a  splendid  town.  The  sea  penetrates  it  in 
several  places  with  creeks  formed  into  harbours,  surrounded  by  build- 
ings, and  these  again  covered  with  fortifications.  The  streets  are  of 
very  unequal  height,  and  as  there  has  been  no  attempt  at  lowering 
them,  the  greatest  variety  takes  place  between  them ;  and  the  singu- 
larity of  the  various  buildings,  leaning  on  each  other  in  such  a  bold, 
picturesque,  and  uncommon  manner,  suggests  to  me  ideas  for  finish- 
ing Abbotsford  by  a  screen  on  the  west  side  of  the  old  barn  and  with 
a  fanciful  wall  decorated  with  towers,  to  enclose  the  bleaching  green 
— watch-towers  such  as  these,  of  which  I  can  get  drawings  while  I  am 
here.  Employed  the  forenoon  in  writing  to  Lockhart.  I  am  a  little 
at  a  loss  what  account  to  give  of  myself.  Better  I  am  decidely  in 
spirit,  but  rather  hampered  by  my  companions,  who  are  neither 
desirous  to  follow  my  amusements,  nor  anxious  that  I  should  adopt 
theirs.  I  am  getting  on  with  this  Siege  of  Malta  very  well.  I  think  if 
I  continue,  it  will  be  ready  in  a"  very  short  time,  and  I  will  get  the 
opinion  of  others,  and  if  my  charm  hold  I  will  be  able  to  get  home 
through  Italy — and  take  up  my  own  trade  again. 

November  24. — We  took  the  quarantine  boat  and  visited  the  outer 
harbour  or  great  port,  in  which  the  ships  repose  when  free  from  their 
captivity.  The  British  ships  of  war  are  there, — a  formidable  spec- 
tacle, as  they  all  carry  guns  of  great  weight.  If  they  go  up  the  Le- 
vant as  reported,  they  are  a  formidable  weight  in  the  bucket.  I  was 
sensible  while  looking  at  them  of  the  truth  of  Cooper's  description  of 
the  beauty  of  their  build,  their  tapering  rigging  and  masts,  and  how 

magnificent  it  looks  as 

i 

"Hulking  and  vast  the  gallant  warship  rides!" 

We  had  some  pride  in  looking  at  the  Barham,  once  in  a  particular 
manner  our  own  abode.  Captain  Pigot  and  some  of  his  officers  dined 
with  us  at  our  house  of  captivity.  By  a  special  grace  our  abode  here 
is  to  be  shortened  one  day,  so  we  leave  on  Monday  first,  which  is  an 
indulgence.  To-day  we  again  visit  Dragut's  Point.  The  guardians 
who  attend  to  take  care  that  we  quarantiners  do  not  kill  the  people 
whom  we  meet,  tell  some  stories  of  this  famous  corsair,  but  I  scarce 
can  follow  their  Arabic.  I  must  learn  it,  though,  for  the  death  of 
Dragut1  would  be  a  fine  subject  for  a  poem,  but  in  the  meantime  I 
will  proceed  with  my  Knights. 

[November  25-30.]" — By  permission  of  the  quarantine  board  we 
were  set  at  liberty,  and  lost  no  time  in  quitting  the  dreary  fort  of  Don 

1  High  Admiral  of  the  Turkish  fleet  before  *  The  dates  are  not  to  be  absolutely  depend- 
Malta,  and  slain  there  in  1565.  See  Dragut  the  ed  upon  during  the  Malta  visit,  as  they  appear 
Corsair,  in  Lockhart's  Spanish.  Ballads.  to  have  been  added  subsequently  by  Sir  Walter. 


568  JOURNAL  [Nov. 

Manuel,  with  all  its  mosquitoes  and  its  thousands  of  lizards  which 
[stand]  shaking  their  heads  at  you  like  their  brother  in  the  new  Ara- 
bian tale  of  Daft  Jock.  My  son  and  daughter  are  already  much  tired 
of  the  imprisonment.  I  myself  cared  less  about  it,  but  it  is  unpleasant 
to  be  thought  so  very  unclean  and  capable  of  poisoning  a  whole  city. 
We  took  our  guardians'  boat  and  again  made  a  round  of  the  harbour ; 
were  met  by  Mrs.  Bathurst's1  carriage,  and  carried  to  my  very  excel- 
lent apartment  at  Beverley's  Hotel.  In  passing  I  saw  something  of 
the  city,  and  very  comical  it  was ;  but  more  of  that  hereafter.  At  or 
about  four  o'clock  we  went  to  our  old  habitation  the  Barham,  having 
promised  again  to  dine  in  the  Ward  room,  where  we  had  a  most 
handsome  dinner,  and  were  dismissed  at  half-past  six,  after  having 
the  pleasure  to  receive  and  give  a  couple  hours  of  satisfaction.  I 
took  the  boat  from  the  chair,  and  was  a  little  afraid  of  the  activity 
of  my  assistants,  but  it  all  went  off  capitally ;  went  to  Beverley's  and 
bed  in  quiet. 

At  two  o'clock  Mrs.  Col.  Bathurst  transported  me  to  see  the  Met- 
ropolitan Church  of  St.  John,  by  far  the  most  magnificent  place  I 
ever  saw  in  my  life ;  its  huge  and  ample  vaults  are  of  the  Gothic  or- 
der. The  floor  is  of  marble,  each  stone  containing  the  inscription  of 
some  ancient  knight  adorned  with  a  patent  of  mortality  and  an  in- 
scription recording  his  name  and  family.  For  instance,  one  knight  I 
believe  had  died  in  the  infidels'  prison ;  to  mark  his  fate,  one  stone 
amid  the  many  -  coloured  pavement  represents  a  door  composed  of 
grates  (iron  grates  I  mean),  displaying  behind  them  an  interior  which 
a  skeleton  is  in  vain  attempting  to  escape  from  by  bursting  the  bars. 
If  you  conceive  he  has  pined  in  his  fetters  there  for  centuries  till 
dried  in  the  ghastly  image  of  death  himself,  it  is  a  fearful  imagina- 
tion. The  roof  which  bends  over  this  scene  of  death  is  splendidly 
adorned  with  carving  and  gilding,  while  the  varied  colours  and  tinct- 
ures both  above  and  beneath,  free  from  the  tinselly  effect  which 
might  have  been  apprehended,  [acquire  a]  solemnity  in  the  dim  re- 
ligious light,  which  they  probably  owe  to  the  lapse  of  time.  Besides 
the  main  ^isle,  which  occupies  the  centre,  there  is  added  a  chapter- 
house in  which  the  knights  were  wont  to  hold  their  meetings.  At 
the  upper  end  of  this  chapter-house  is  the  fine  Martyrdom  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist,  by  Caravaggio,  though  this  has  been  disputed.  On  the 
left  hand  of  the  body  of  the  church  lie  a  series  of  subordinate  aisles 
or  chapels,  built  by  the  devotion  of  the  different  languages,"  and 
where  some  of  the  worthies  inhabit  the  vaults  beneath.  The  other 
side  of  the  church  is  occupied  in  the  same  manner ;  one  chapel  in 
which  the  Communion  was  imparted  is  splendidly  adorned  by  a  row 
of  silver  pillars,  which  divided  the  worshippers  from  the  priest.  Im- 

i  Wife  of  the  Lieut. -Governor,  Colonel  Sey-      of  Jerusalem  consisted  of  eight  "  Lodges  "  or 
mour  Bathurst.  "Languages,"  viz.  :   France,  Auvergne.  Prov- 

ence, Spain,   Portugal,  Germany,  and   Anglo- 
»  In  1790  the  Order  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John      Bavaria — Hoare's  Tour.  vol.  i.  p.  28. 


1831.]  JOURNAL  569 

mense  riches  had  been  taken  from  this  chapel  of  the  Holy  Sacrament 
by  the  French ;  a  golden  lamp  of  great  size,  and  ornaments  to  the 
value  of  50,000  crowns  are  mentioned  in  particular;  the  rich  railing 
had  not  escaped  the  soldiers'  rapacity  had  it  not  been  painted  to  re- 
semble wood.  I  must  visit  this  magnificent  church  another  time. 
To-day  I  have  done  it  at  the  imminent  risk  of  a  bad  fall.  We  drove 
out  to  see  a  Maltese  village,  highly  ornamented  in  the  usual  taste. 
Mrs.  Bathurst  was  so  good  as  to  take  me  in  her  carriage.  We  dined 
with  Colonel  Bathurst. 

November  26. — I  visited  my  old  and  much  respected  friend,  Mr. 
John  Hookham  Frere,1  and  was  much  gratified  to  see  him  the  same 
man  I  had  always  known  him, — perhaps  a  little  indolent ;  but  that 's 
not  much.  A  good  Tory  as  ever,  when  the  love  of  many  is  waxed 
cold.  At  night  a  grand  ball  in  honour  of  your  humble  servant — 
about  four  hundred  gentlemen  and  ladies.  The  former  mostly  Brit- 
ish officers  of  army,  navy,  and  civil  service.  Of  the  ladies,  the  isl- 
and furnished  a  fair  proportion — I  mean  viewed  in  either  way.  I 
was  introduced  to  a  mad  Italian  improvisatore,  who  was  with  difficul- 
ty prevented  from  reciting  a  poem  in  praise  of  the  King,  and  impos- 
ing a  crown  upon  my  head,  nolens  volens.  Some  of  the  officers,  easily 
conceiving  how  disagreeable  this  must  have  been  to  a  quiet  man,  got 
me  out  of  the  scrape,  and  I  got  home  about  midnight ;  but  remain 
unpoetised  and  unspeeched. 

November  28. —  I  have  made  some  minutes,  some  observations, 
and  could  do  something  at  my  Siege ;  but  I  do  not  find  my  health 
gaining  ground.  I  visited  Frere  at  Sant'  Antonio ;  a  beautiful  place 
with  a  splendid  garden,  which  Mr.  Frere  will  never  tire  of,  unless  some 
of  his  family  come  to  carry  him  home  by  force.  * 

November  29. — Lady  Hotham  was  kind  enough  to  take  me  a  drive, 
and  we  dined  with  them — a  very  pleasant  party.  I  picked  up  some 
anecdotes  of  the  latter  siege. 

Make  another  pilgrimage,  escorted  by  Captain  Pigot  and  several 
of  his  officers.  We  took  a  more  accurate  view  of  this  splendid  struct- 
ure ^Church  of  St.  John].  I  went  down  into  the  vaults  and  made  a 
visiting  acquaintance  with  La  Valette,2  whom,  greatly  to  my  joy,  I 
found  most  splendidly  provided  with  a  superb  sepulchre  of  bronze, 
on  which  he  reclines  in  the  full  armour  of  a  Knight  of  Chivalrie. 

1  John  Hookham  Frere,  the  disciple  of  Pitt,  For  Scott's  high  opinion  of  Frere,  as  far  back 

and  bosom  friend  of  Canning,  made  Malta  his  as  1804,  see  Life,  vol.  ii.  p.  207  and  note, 
home  from  1820  till  1846;  he  died  there  on  Jan- 
uary 7th.   He  was  in  deep  affliction  at  the  time 

of  Scott's  arrival,  having  lost  his  wife  a  few  *  Grandmaster  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John  of 

months  before,  but  he  welcomed  his  old  friend  Jerusalem,  and  defender  of  Malta  against  Soly- 

with  a  melancholy  pleasure.  man  in  1565. 


DECEMBER 

December  1. — There  are  two  good  libraries,  on  a  different  plan 
and  for  different  purposes — a  modern  subscription  library  that  lends 
its  own  books,  and  an  ancient  foreign  library  which  belonged  to  the 
Knights,  but  does  not  lend  books.  Its  value  is  considerable,  but  the 
funds  unfortunately  are  shamefully  small ;  I  may  do  this  last  some 
good.  I  have  got  in  a  present  from  Frere  the  prints  of  the  Siege  of 
Malta,  very  difficult  to  understand,  and  on  loan  from  Mr.  Murray, 
Agent  of  the  Navy  Office,  the  original  of  Boiardo,  to  be  returned 
through  Mr.  Murray,  Albemarle  Street.  Mr.  Murray  is  very  good- 
natured  about  it. 

December  2. — My  chief  occupation  has  been  driving  with  Frere. 
Dr.  Liddell  declines  a  handsome  fee.  I  will  want  to  send  some 
oranges  to  the  children.  I  am  to  go  with  Col.  Bathurst  to-day  as 
far  as  to  wait  on  the  bishop.  My  old  friend  Sir  John  Stoddart's 
daughter  is  to  be  married  to  a  Captain  Atkinson.  Rode  with  Frere. 
Much  recitation. 

December  6. — Captain  Pigot  inclines  to  take  me  on  with  him  to 
Naples,  after  which  he  goes  to  Tunis  on  Government  service.  This 
is  an  offer  not  to  be  despised,  though  at  the  expense  of  protracting 
the  news  from  Scotland,  which  I  engage  to  provide  for  in  case  of  the 
worst,  by  offering  Mr.  Cadell  a  new  romance,  to  be  called  The  Siege  of 
Malta,  which  if  times  be  as  they  were  when  I  came  off,  should  be 
thankful[ly  received]  at  a  round  sum,  paying  back  not  only  what  is 
overdrawn,  but  supplying  finances  during  the  winter. 

December  10,  [Naples\. — I  ought  to  say  that  before  leaving  Malta 
I  went  to  wait  on  the  Archbishop :  a  fine  old  gentleman,  very  hand- 
some, and  one  of  the  priests  who  commanded  the  Maltese  in  their  in- 
surrection against  the  French.  I  took  the  freedom  to  hint  that  as  he 
had  possessed  a  journal  of  this  blockade,  it  was  but  due  to  his 
country  and  himself  to  give  it  to  the  public,  and  offered  my  assist- 
ance. He  listened  to  my  suggestion,  and  seemed  pleased  with  the 
proposal,  which  I  repeated  more  than  once,  and  apparently  with  suc- 
cess. Next  day  the  Bishop  returned  my  visit  in  full  state,  attended 
by  his  clergy,  and  superbly  dressed  in  costume,  the  pearfs  being  very 
fine.  (The  name  of  this  fine  old  dignitary  of  the  Romish  Church  is 
Don  Francis  Caruana,  Bishop  of  Malta.) 

The  last  night  we  were  at  Malta  we  experienced  a  rude  shock 
of  an  earthquake,  which  alarmed  me,  though  I  did  not  know  what  it 
was.  It  was  said  to  foretell  that  the  ocean,  which  had  given  birth 


DEC.  1831.]  JOURNAL  57 1 

to  Graham's  Island,  had,  like  Pelops,  devoured  its  own  offspring, 
and  we  are  told  it  is  not  now  visible,  and  will  be,  perhaps,  hid  from 
those  who  risk  the  main ;  but  as  we  did  not  come  near  its  latitude 
we  cannot  say  from  our  own  knowledge  that  the  news  is  true.  I 
found  my  old  friend  Frere  as  fond  as  ever  of  old  ballads.  He  took 
me  out  almost  every  day,  and  favoured  me  with  recitations  of  the  Cid 
and  the  continuation  of  Whistlecraft.  He  also  acquainted  me  that 
he  had  made  up  to  Mr.  Coleridge  the  pension  of  £200  from  the 
Board  of  Literature1  out  of  his  own  fortune. 

December  13,  [Naples]. — "We  left  Malta  on  this  day,  and  after  a 
most  picturesque  voyage  between  the  coast  of  Sicily  and  Malta  ar- 
rived here  on  the  17th,  where  we  were  detained  for  quarantine,  whence 
we  were  not  dismissed  till  the  day  before  Christmas.  I  saw  Charles, 
to  my  great  joy,  and  agreed  to  dine  with  his  master,  Right  Hon.  Mr. 
Hill,*  resolving  it  should  be  my  first  and  last  engagement  at  Naples. 
Next  morning  much  struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  Bay  of  Naples. 
It  is  insisted  that  my  arrival  has  been  a  signal  for  the  greatest  erup- 
tion from  Vesuvius  which  that  mountain  has  favoured  us  with  for 
many  a  day.  I  can  only  say,  as  the  Frenchman  said  of  the  comet 
supposed  to  foretell  his  own  death,  "Ah,  messieurs,  la  comete  me  fait 
trop  d'honneur.'1  Of  letters  I  can  hear  nothing.  There  are  many 
English  here,  of  most  of  whom  I  have  some  knowledge. 

December  25,  [Bay  of  Naples], — We  are  once  more  fairly  put  into 
quarantine.  Captain  Pigot  does  not,  I  think,  quite  understand  the 
freedom  his  flag  is  treated  with,  and  could  he  find  law  for  so  doing 
would  try  his  long  thirty-six  pounders  on  the  town  of  Naples  and  its 
castles ;  not  to  mention  a  sloop  of  ten  guns  which  has  ostentatiously 
entered  the  Bay  to  assist  them.  Lord  knows  we  would  make  ducks 
and  drakes  of  the  whole  party  with  the  Barham's  terrible  battery ! 

There  is  a  new  year  like  to  begin  and  no  news  from  Britain.     By 
and  by  I  will  be  in  the  condition  of  those  who  are  sick  and  in  prison/ 
and  entitled  to  visits  and  consolation  on  principles  of  Christianity. 

December  26,  [Strada  Nuova], — Went  ashore  ;  admitted  to  pra- 
tique, and  were  received  here.8  Walter  has  some  money  left,  which 
we  must  use  or  try  a  begging-box,  for  I  see  no  other  resource,  since 
they  seem  to  have  abandoned  me  so.  Go  ashore  each  day  to  sight- 
seeing. Have  the  pleasure  to  meet  Mr.4  and  Mrs.  Laing-Meason  of 
Lindertis,  and  have  their  advice  and  assistance  and  company  in  our 

1  By  "Board  of  Literature"  Scott  doubtless  grant  of  £200  from  the  Treasury,  which  he  de- 
means the  Royal  Society  of  Literature,  insti-  clined. 

tuted  in  1824  under  the  patronage  of  George  The  pension  from  the  Society  or  the  Privy 

iv.;   see  ante,  p.   256.     Besides  the  members  Purse  of  George  iv.,  which  Mr.  Hookham  Frere 

who  paid  a  subscription  there  were  ten  as-  told  Sir  Walter  he  had  made  up  to  Coleridge, 

sociates,   of  whom   Coleridge   was   one,  who  was  one  hundred  guineas, 

each  received  an  annuity  of  a  hundred  guineas  2  Afterwards  Lord  Berwick, 
from  the  King's  bounty.     When  William  iv. 

succeeded  his  brother  in  1830,  he  declined  to  *  The  travellers  established  themselves  in 

continue  these  annuities.  Representations  were  the  Pa'az.z°  Caraman.co  as  soon  as  they  were 

made  to  the  Government,  and  the  then  Prime  released  from  quarantine. 

Minister,  Earl  Grey,  offered  Coleridge  a  private  *  A  brother  of  Malcolm  Laing,  the  historian. 


572  JOURNAL  PEC.  1831. 

wanderings  almost  every  day.  Mr.  Meason  has  made  some  valuable 
remarks  on  the  lava  where  the  villas  of  the  middle  ages  are  founded : 
the  lava  shows  at  least  upon  the  ancient  maritime  villas  of  the  Romans ; 
so  the  boot  of  the  moderns  galls  the  kibe  of  the  age  preceding  them  ; 
the  reason  seems  to  be  the  very  great  durability  with  which  the 
Romans  finished  their  domestic  architecture  of  maritime  arches,  by 
which  they  admitted  the  sea  into  their  lower  houses.1 

We  were  run  away  with,  into  the  grotto  very  nearly,  but  luckily 
stopped  before  we  entered,  and  so  saved  our  lives.  We  have  seen 
the  Strada  Nuova — a  new  access  of  extreme  beauty  which  the  Italians 
owe  to  Murat. 

The  Bay  of  Naples  is  one  of  the  finest  things  I  ever  saw.  Vesu- 
vius controls  it  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  town. 

I  never  go  out  in  the  evening,  but  take  airings  in  the  day-time 
almost  daily.  The  day  after  Christmas  I  went  to  see  some  old  parts 
of  the  city,  amongst  the  rest  a  tower  called  Torre  del  Carmine,  which 
figured  during  the  Duke  of  Guise's  adventure,  and  the  gallery  of  as 
old  a  church,  where  Masaniello  was  shot  at  the  conclusion  of  his 
career.*  I  marked  down  the  epitaph  of  a  former  Empress,3  which  is 
striking  and  affecting.  It  would  furnish  matter  for  my  Tour  if  I 
wanted  it. 

"  Naples,  thou'  rt  a  gallant  city, 
But  thou  hast  been  dearly  bought" — 4 

So  is  King  Alphonso  made  to  sum  up  the  praises 'of  this  princely 
town,  with  the  losses  which  he  had  sustained  in  making  himself 
master  of  it.  I  looked  on  it  with  something  of  the  same  feelings, 
and  I  may  adopt  the  same  train  of  thought  when  I  recall  Lady  North- 
ampton, Lady  Abercorn,  and  other  friends  much  beloved  who  have 
met  their  death  in  or  near  this  city. 

1  An  account  is  given  by  Sir  William  Cell  01  *  See  Appendix  iv. :  "A  former  Empress." 
an  excursion  by  sea  to  the  ruins  of  such  a  Ro-  Sir  Walter  no  doubt  means  the  mother  of  Con- 
man  villa  on  the  promontory  of  Posilipo,  to  radin  of  Suabia,  or,  as  the  Italians  call  him, 
which  he  had  taken  Sir  Walter  in  a  boat  on  the  Corradino, —erroneously  called  "Empress," 
26th  of  January.—  See  Life,  vol.  x.  pp.  157-8.  though  her  husband  had  pretensions  to  the 

"  For  a  picturesque  sketch  of  Naples  during  Imperial  dignity,  disputed  and  abortive.  For 
the  insurrection  of  1647  see  Sir  Walter's  article  the  whole  affecting  story  see  HUtoire  de  la  Con- 
on  Masaniello  and  the  Duke  of  Guise. — Foreign  quete  de  Naples,  St.  Priest,  vol.  iii.  pp.  130-185, 
Quarterly  Review,  vol.  iv.  pp.  355-403.  especially  pp.  162-3. 

«  A  variation  of  the  lines  on  Alphonso's  capture  of  the  city  in  1442:— 

"And  then  he  looked  on  Naples,  that  great  city  of  the  sea, 
'  O  city,'  salth  the  King,  '  how  great  hath  been  thy  cost, 
For  thee  1  twenty  years— my  fairest  years— have  lost.' " 

— Lockbart's  Spanith  Ballads,  "The  King  of  Arragon." 


1832.— JANUARY 

January  5. — Went  by  invitation  to  wait  upon  a  priest,  who  al- 
most rivals  my  fighting  bishop  of  Malta.  He  is  the  old  Bishop  of 
Tarentum,1  and,  notwithstanding  his  age,  eighty  and  upwards,  is  still 
a  most  interesting  man.  A  face  formed  to  express  an  interest  in 
whatever  passes ;  caressing  manners,  and  a  total  absence  of  that  rigid 
stiffness  which  hardens  the  heart  of  the  old  and  converts  them  into  a 
sort  of  petrifaction.  Apparently  his  foible  was  a  fondness  for  cats ; 
one  of  them,  a  superb  brindled  Persian  cat,  is  a  great  beauty,  and 
seems  a  particular  favourite.  I  think  we  would  have  got  on  well  to- 
gether if  he  could  have  spoken  English,  or  I  French  or  Latin ;  but 
helas  !  I  once  saw  at  Lord  Yarmouth's  house  a  Persian  cat,  but  not 
quite  so  fine  as  that  of  the  Bishop.  He  gave  me  a  Latin  devotional 
poem  and  an  engraving  of  himself,  and  I  came  home  about  two 
o'clock. 

January  6  to  12. — We  reach  the  12th  January,  amusing  ourselves 
as  we  can,  generally  seeing  company  and  taking  airings  in  the  fore- 
noon in  this  fine  country.  Sir  William  Gell,  a  very  pleasant  man, 
one  of  my  chief  cicerones.  Lord  Hertford  comes  to  Naples.  I  am 
glad  to  keep  up  an  old  acquaintance  made  in  the  days  of  George  iv. 
He  has  got  a  breed  from  Maida,  of  which  I  gave  him  a  puppy.  There 
was  a  great  crowd  at  the  Palazzo,  which  all  persons  attended,  being 
the  King's  birthday.  The  apartments  are  magnificent,  and  the  vari- 
ous kinds  of  persons  who  came  to  pay  court  were  splendid.  I  went 
with  the  boys  as  Brigadier-General  of  the  Archers'  Guard,  wore  a 
very  decent  green  uniform,  laced  at  the  cuffs,  and  pantaloons,  and 
looked  as  well  as  sixty  could  make  it  out  when  sworded  and  feathered 
comme  il  faut.  I  passed  well  enough.  Very  much  afraid  of  a  fall 
on  the  slippery  floor,  but  escaped  that  disgrace.  The  ceremony  was 
very  long.  I  was  introduced  to  many  distinguished  persons,  and, 
but  for  the  want  of  language,  got  on  well  enough.  The  King  spoke 
to  me  about  five  minutes,  of  which  I  hardly  understood  five  words.  I 
answered  him  in  a  speech  of  the  same  length,  and  I'll  be  bound 
equally  unintelligible.  We  made  the  general  key-tone  of  the  ha- 
rangue la  belle  langue  et  le  beau  dels  of  sa  majeste.  Very  fine  dresses, 
very  many  diamonds.  .  .  . 

i  Sir  William  Gell  styles  him  "Archbishop,"  the  Bag  of  Gold,  and  is  immortalised  by  the 

and  adds  that  at  this  time  he  was  in  his  nine-  pencil  of  Landseer  seated  at  table  en  famille 

tieth  year.   Can  this  prelate  be  Rogers's  "Good  with  three  of  his  velvet  favourites?    See  Italy, 

Old  Cardinal,"  who  told  the  pleasant  tale  of  fcp.  8vo,  1838.  p.  302. 


574  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

A  pretty  Spanish  ambassadress,  Countess  da  Costa,  and  her  hus- 
band. Saw  the  Countess  de  Lebzeltern,  who  has  made  our  acquaint- 
ance, and  seems  to  be  very  clever.  I  will  endeavour  to  see  her  again. 
Introduced  to  another  Russian  Countess  of  the  diplomacy.  Got  from 
Court  about  two  o'clock.  I  should  have  mentioned  that  I  had  a  letter 
from  Skene1  and  one  from  Cadell,  dated  as  far  back  as  2d  December, 
a  monstrous  time  ago,  [which]  yet  puts  a  period  to  my  anxiety.  I 
have  written  to  Cadell  for  particulars  and  supplies,  and,  besides,  have 
written  a  great  many  pages  of  the  Siege  of  Malta,  which  I  think  will 
succeed. 

[January  16-23]. — I  think  £200  a  month,  or  thereby,  will  do  very 
well,  and  it  is  no  great  advance. 

Another  piece  of  intelligence  was  certainly  to  be  expected,  but 
now  it  has  come  afflicts  us  much.  Poor  Johnny  Lockhart !  The 
boy  is  gone  whom  we  have  made  so  much  of.  I  could  not  have 
borne  it  better  than  I  now  do,  and  I  might  have  borne  it  much 
worse.* 

I  went  one  evening  to  the  Opera  to  see  that  amusement  in  its 
birthplace,  which  is  now  so  widely  received  over  Europe.  The  Opera 
House  is  superb,  but  can  seldom  be  quite  full.  On  this  night,  how- 
ever, it  was ;  the  guards,  citizens,  and  all  persons  dependent  on  the 
Court,  or  having  anything  to  win  or  lose  by  it,  are  expected  to  take 
places  liberally,  and  applaud  with  spirit.  The  King  bowed  much  on 
entrance,  and  was  received  in  a  popular  manner,  which  he  has  no 
doubt  deserved,  having  relaxed  many  of  his  father's  violent  persecu- 
tions against  the  Liberals,  made  in  some  degree  an  amnesty,  and  em- 
ployed many  of  this  character.  He  has  made  efforts  to  lessen  his 
expenses ;  but  then  he  deals  in  military  affairs,  and  that  swallows  up 
his  savings,  and  Heaven  only  knows  whether  he  will  bring  [Neapoli- 
tans] to  fight,  which  the  Martinet  system  alone  will  never  do.  His 
health  is  undermined  by  epileptic  fits,  which,  with  his  great  corpu- 
lence, make  men  throw  their  thoughts  on  his  brother  Prince  Charles. 
It  is  a  pity.  The  King  is  only  two-and-twenty  years  old. 

The  Opera  bustled  off  without  any  remarkable  music,  and,  so  far 
as  I  understand  the  language,  no  poetry ;  and  except  the  coup  d'oeil, 
which  was  magnificent,  it  was  poor  work.  It  was  on  the  subject  of 
Constantine  and  Crispus — marvellous  good  matter,  I  assure  you.  I 
came  home  at  half-past  nine,  without  waiting  the  ballet,  but  I  was 
dog-sick  of  the  whole  of  it.  Went  to  the  Studij  to-day.  I  had  no 

1  This  is  the  last  notice  in  the  Journal  by  long  distance  to  see  me,  he  has  been  sitting 

Sir  Walter  of  his  dear  friend.    James  Skeue  of  with  me  at  the  fireside  talking  over  our  happy 

Rubislaw  died  at  Frewen  Hall,  Oxford,  in  18G4,  recollections  of  the  past.  ..." 

in  his  ninetieth  year.     His  faculties  remained  Two  or  three  days  later  he  followed  his  well 

unimpaired  throughout  his  serene  and  beauti-  loved  friend  into  the  unseen  world — gently  and 

ful  old  age,  until  the  end  was  very  near — then,  calmly  like  a  child  falling  asleep  he  passed 

one  evening  his  daughter  found  him  with  a  away  in  perfect  peace, 
look  of  inexpressible  delight  on  his  face,  when 

he  said  to  her  "  I  have  had  such  a  great  pleas-  »  John  Hugh  Lockhart  died  December  15, 

ure!    Scott  has  been  here — he  came  from  a  1831. 


1832.]  JOURNAL  575 

answer  to  my  memorial  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  which  it  seems 
is  necessary  to  make  any  copies  from  the  old  romances.  I  find  it  is 

an  affair  of  State,  and  Monsieur can  only  hope  it  will  be  granted 

in  two  or  three  days ; — to  a  man  that  may  leave  Naples  to-morrow ! 
He  offers  me  a  loan  of  what  books  I  need,  Annals  included,  but  this 
is  also  a  delay  of  two  or  three  days.  I  think  really  the  Italian  men 
of  letters  do  not  know  the  use  of  time  made  by  those  of  other  places, 
but  I  must  have  patience.  In  the  course  of  my  return  home  I  called, 
by  advice  of  my  valet  de  place,  at  a  bookseller's,  where  he  said  all  the 
great  messieurs  went  for  books.  It  had  very  little  the  air  of  a  place 
of  such  resort,  being  kept  in  a  garret  above  a  coach-house.  Here 
some  twenty  or  thirty  odd  volumes  were  produced  by  an  old  woman, 
but  nothing  that  was  mercantile,  so  I  left  them  for  Lorenzo's  learned 
friends.  And  yet  I  was  sorry  too,  for  the  lady  who  showed  them  to 
me  was  very  [civil],  and,  understanding  that  I  was  the  famous  Chev- 
alier, carried  her  kindness  as  far  as  I  could  desire.  The  Italians  un- 
derstand nothing  of  being  in  a  hurry,  but  perhaps  it  is  their  way.1 

January  24. — The  King  grants  the  favour  asked.  To  be  perfect 
I  should  have  the  books  [out]  of  the  room,  but  this  seems  to  [hurt  ?] 
Monsieur  Delicteriis  as  he,  kind  and  civil  as  he  is,  would  hardly  [al- 
low] me  to  take  my  labours  out  of  the  Studij,  where  there  are  hosts 
of  idlers  and  echoes  and  askers  and  no  understanders  of  askers.  I 
progress,  however,  as  the  Americans  say.  I  have  found  that  Sir  Wil- 
liam Gell's  amanuensis  is  at  present  disengaged,  and  that  he  is  quite 
the  man  for  copying  the  romances,  which  is  a  plain  black  letter  of 
1377,  at  the  cheap  and  easy  rate  of  3  quattrons  a  day.  I  am  ashamed 
at  the  lowness  of  the  remuneration,  but  it  will  dine  him  capitally, 
with  a  share  of  a  bottle  of  wine,  or,  by  'r  lady,  a  whole  one  if  he  likes 
it;  and  thrice  the  sum  would  hardly  do  that  in  England.  But  we 
dawdle,  and  that  there  is  no  avoiding.  I  have  found  another  object 
in  the  Studij — the  language  of  Naples. 

Jany.  2[5?]. — One  work  in  this  dialect,  for  such  it  is,  was  de- 
scribed to  me  as  a  history  of  ancient  Neapolitan  legends — quite  in 
my  way-  and  it  proves  to  be  a  dumpy  fat  12mo  edition  of  Mother 
Goose's  Tales,2  with  my  old  friends  Puss  in  Boots,  Bluebeard,  and  al- 
most the  whole  stock  of  this  very  collection.  If  this  be  the  original 
of  this  charming  book,  it  is  very  curious,  for  it  shows  the  right  of 
Naples  to  the  authorship,  but  there  are  French  editions  very  early 
also ; — for  there  are  two — whether  French  or  Italian,  I  am  uncertain 
— of  different  dates,  both  having  claims  to  the  original  edition,  each 
omitting  some  tales  which  the  other  has. 

To  what  common  original  we  are  to  refer  them  the  Lord  knows. 

•    »  Sir  W.  Cell  relates  that  an  old  English  botsford,  under  the  title,  Old  English  Romances, 

manuscript  of  the  Romance  of  Sir  Bevis  of  transcribed  from  uss.  in  the  Royal  Library  at 

Hampton,  existing  in   Naples,   had  attracted  Naples,  by  Sticchini,  2  vols.  sm.  8vo. 
Scott's  attention,  and  he  resolved  to  make  a 

copy  of  it.  3  See  Appendix  v.  for  Mr.  Andrew  Lang's 

The  transcript  is  now  in  the  Library  at  Ab-  letter  on  this  subject. 


576  JOURNAL  [JAN. 

I  will  look  into  [this]  very  closely,  and  if  this  same  copiator  is  worth 
his  ears  he  can  help  me.  My  friend  Mr.  D.  will  aid  me,  but  I  doubt 
he  hardly  likes  my  familiarity  with  the  department  of  letters  in  which 
he  has  such  an  extensive  and  valuable  charge.  Yet  he  is  very  kind 
and  civil,  and  promises  me  the  loan  of  a  Neapolitan  vocabulary,  which 
will  set  me  up  for  the  attack  upon  Mother  Goose.  Spirit  of  Tom 
Thumb  assist  me !  I  could,  I  think,  make  a  neat  thing  of  this,  ob- 
noxious to  ridicule  perhaps ; — what  then  !  The  author  of  Ma  Sceur 
Anne  was  a  clever  man,  and  his  tale  will  remain  popular  in  spite  of 
all  gibes  and  flouts  soever.  So  Vamos  Caracci!  If  it  was  not  for 
the  trifling  and  dawdling  peculiar  to  this  country,  I  should  have  time 
enough,  but  their  trifling  with  time  is  the  devil.  I  will  try  to  engage 
Mr.  Gell  in  two  researches  in  his  way  and  more  in  mine,  namely,  the 
Andrea  Ferrara  and  the  Bonnet  piece.1  Mr.  Keppel  Craven  says  An- 
drea de  Ferraras a  are  frequent  in  Italy.  Plenty  to  do  if  we  had  alert 
assistance,  but  Gell  and  Laing  Meason  have  both  their  own  matters  to 
puzzle  out,  and  why  should  they  mind  my  affairs  ?  The  weather  is 
very  cold,  and  I  am  the  reverse  of  the  idiot  boy — 

"For  as  my  body's  growing  worse, 
My  mind  is  growing  better."  * 

Of  this  I  am  distinctly  sensible,  and  thank  God  that  the  mist  attend- 
ing this  whoreson  apoplexy  is  wearing  off. 

I  went  to  the  Studij  and  copied  Bevis  of  Hampton,  about  two 
pages,  for  a  pattern.  From  thence  to  Sir  William  Gell,  and  made  an 
appointment  at  the  Studij  with  his  writer  to-morrow  at  ten,  when,  I 
trust,  I  shall  find  Delicteriis  there,  but  the  gentleman  with  the  class- 
ical name  is  rather  kind  and  friendly  in  his  neighbour's  behalf.4 

January  26. — This  day  arrived  (for  the  first  time  indeed)  answer 
to  last  post  end  of  December,  an  epistle  from  Cadell  full  of  good  tid- 
ings.6 Castle  Dangerous  and  Sir  Robert  of  Paris,  neither  of  whom  I 
deemed  seaworthy,  have  performed  two  voyages — that  is,  each  sold 
about  3400,  and  the  same  of  the  current  year.  It  proves  what  I  have 
thought  almost  impossible,  that  I  might  write  myself  [out],  but  as  yet 
my  spell  holds  fast. 

I  have  besides  two  or  three  good  things  on  which  I  may  advance 
with  spirit,  and  with  palmy  hopes  on  the  part  of  Cadell  and  myself. 
He  thinks  he  will  soon  cry  victoria  on  the  bet  about  his  hat.  He 

1  The  forty -shilling  gold  piece  coined  by  s  Sir  W.  Gell  records  that  on  the  morning  he 

James  v.  of  Scotland.  received  the  good  news  he  called  upon  him  and 

a  Sword-blades  of  peculiar  excellence  bear-  said  he  felt  quite  relieved  by  his  letters,  and 

ing  the  name  of  this  maker  have  been  known  added,  "  I  could  never  have  slept  straight  in 

in  Scotland  since  the  reign  of  James  iv.  my  coffin  till  I  had  satisfied  every  claim  against 

*  Altered  from  Wordsworth.  me;  and  now,"  turning  to  a  favourite  dog  that 

4  The  editor  of  Reliqwz  Antiques  (2  vols.  8vo,  was  with  them  in  the  carriage  he  said,  ''My 

London,  1843),  writing  ten  years  after  this  visit,  poor  boy,  I  shall  have  my  house  and  my  estate 

says,  that  "The  Chevalier  de  Licteriis  [Chief  round  it  free,  and  I  may  keep  my  dogs  as  big 

Librarian  in  the  Royal  Library]  showed  him  and  as  many  as  I  choose  without  fear  of  re- 

the   manuscript,   and   well    remembered    his  proach. " — Life,  vol.  x.  p.  160. 
drawing  Sir  Walter's  attention  to  it  in  1832." 


1832.]  JOURNAL  577 

was  to  get  a  new  one  when  I  had  paid  off  all  my  debts.  I  can  hardly, 
now  that  I  am  assured  all  is  well  again,  form  an  idea  to  myself  that  I 
could  think  it  was  otherwise. 

And  yet  I  think  it  is  the  public  that  are  mad  for  passing  those 
two  volumes ;  but  I  will  not  be  the  first  to  cry  them  down  in  the 
market,  for  I  have  others  in  hand,  which,  judged  with  equal  favour, 
will  make  fortunes  of  themselves.  Let  me  see  what  I  have  on  the 
stocks — 

Castle  Dangerous  (supposed  future  Editions) £1000 

Robert  of  Paris,  "  "  "         1000 

Lady  Louisa  Stuart,     "  "  "         600 

Knights  of  Malta,         "  "         .2500 

Trotcosiauae  Reliquiae,  "  "         2500 

I  have  returned  to  my  old  hopes,  and  think  of  giving  Milne  an  offer  for  his 
estate.1 

Letters  6r  Tour  of  Paul  in  3  vols 3000 

Reprint  of  Bevis  of  Hampton  for  Roxburghe  Club 

Essay  on  the  Neapolitan  dialect 

1  Viz,  Faldonside,  an  estate  adjacent  to  Ab-  some  land  between  me  and  the  lake  which  lies 

botsford  which  Scott  bad  long  wished  to  pos-  mighty  convenient,  but  I  am  mighty  deter- 

scss.     As  far  back  as  November,  1817.  he  wrote  mined  to  give  nothing  more  than  the  value,  so 

a  friend:  "My  neighbour,  Nicol  Milne,  is  mighty  that  it  is  likely  to  end  like  the  old  proverb,  Ex 

desirous  I  should  buy,  at  a  mighty  high  rate,  Niuhilo  Nichiljit." 
37 


FEBRUARY 

February  10. — We  went  to  Pompeii  to-day:  a  large  party,  all  dis- 
posed to  enjoy  the  sight  in  this  fine  weather.  \Ve  had  Sir  Frederick 
and  Lady  Adam,  Sir  William  Gell,  the  coryphaeus  of  our  party,  who 
played  his  part  very  well.  Miss  de  la  Ferronays,1  daughter  of  Mon- 
sieur le  Due  de  la  Ferronays,  the  head,  I  believe,  of  the  constitutional 
Royalists,  very  popular  in  France,  and  likely  to  be  called  back  to  the 
ministry,  with  two  or  three  other  ladies,  particularly  Mrs.  Ashley, 
born  Miss  Baillic,2  very  pretty  indeed,  and  lives  in  the  same  house. 
The  Countess  de  la  Ferronays  has  a  great  deal  of  talent  both  musical 
and  dramatic. 

February  16. — Sir  William  Gell  called  and  took  me  out  to-night 
to  a  bookseller  whose  stock  was  worth  looking  over. 

We  saw,  among  the  old  buildings  of  the  city,  an  ancient  palace 
called  the  Vicaria,  which  is  changed  into  a  prison.  Then  a  new 
palace  was  honoured  with  royal  residence  instead  of  the  old  dungeon. 
I  saw  also  a  fine  arch  called  the  Capuan  gate,  formerly  one  of  the  city 
towers,  and  a  very  pretty  one.  We  advanced  to  see  the  ruins  of  a 
palace  said  to  be  a  habitation  of  Queen  Joan,  and  where  she  put  her 
lovers  to  death  chiefly  by  potions,  thence  into  a  well,  smothering 
them,  etc.,  and  other  little  tenderly  trifling  matters  of  gallantry. 

1  Probably  Pauline ;  married  to  Hon.  Augus  a  Daughter  of  Colonel  Hugh  Duncan  Baillic. 

tus  Craven,  and  author  of  Rent  d'une  Saur.  of  Tarradale  and  Rcdcastle. 


MARCH 

March  . — Embarked  on  an  excursion  to  Paestum,  with  Sir  Will- 
iam Gell  and  Mr.  Laing-Meason,  in  order  to  see  the  fine  ruins.  We 
went  out  by  Pompeii,  which  we  had  visited  before,  and  which  fully 
maintains  its  character  as  one  of  the  most  striking  pieces  of  antiquity, 
where  the  furniture  treasure  and  household  are  preserved  in  the  exca- 
vated houses,  just  as  found  by  the  labourers  appointed  by  Govern- 
ment. The  inside  of  the  apartments  is  adorned  with  curious  paint- 
ings, if  I  may  call  them  such,  in  mosaic.  A  meeting  between  Darius 
and  Alexander  is  remarkably  fine.1  A  street,  called  the  street  of 
Tombs,  reaches  a  considerable  way  out  of  the  city,  having  been  flanked 
by  tombs  on  each  side  as  the  law  directed.  The  entrance  into  the 
town  affords  an  interesting  picture  of  the  private  life  of  the  Romans. 
We  came  next  to  the  vestiges  of  Herculaneum,  which  is  destroyed 
like  Pompeii  but  by  the  lava  or  molten  stone,  which  cannot  be'  re- 
moved, whereas  the  tufa  or  volcanic  ashes  can  be  with  ease  removed 
from  Pompeii,  which  it  has  filled  up  lightly.  After  having  refreshed 
in  a  cottage  in  the  desolate  town,  we  proceed  on  our  journey  east- 
ward, flanked  by  one  set  of  heights  stretching  from  Vesuvius,  and 
forming  a  prolongation  of  that  famous  mountain.  Another  chain  of 
mountains  seems  to  intersect  our  course  in  an  opposite  direction  and 
descends  upon  the  town  of  Castellamare.  Different  from  the  range 
of  heights  which  is  prolonged  from  Vesuvius,  this  second,  which  runs 
1(4  Castellamare,  is  entirely  composed  of  granite,  and,  as  is  always  the 
case  with  mountains  of  this  formation,  betrays  no  trace  of  volcanic 
agency.  Its  range  was  indeed  broken  and  split  up  into  specimens 
of  rocks  of  most  romantic  appearance  and  great  variety,  displaying 
granite  rock  as  the  principal  part  of  its  composition.  The  country  on 
which  these  hills  border  is  remarkable  for  its  powers  of  vegetation, 
and  produces  vast  groves  of  vine,  elm,  chestnut,  and  similar  trees, 
which  grow  when  stuck  in  by  cuttings.  The  vines  produce  Lacryma 
Christi  in  great  quantities — not  a  bad  wine,  though  the  stranger  re- 
quires to  be  used  to  it.  The  sea-shore  of  the  Bay  of  Naples  forms 
the  boundary  on  the  right  of  the  country  through  which  our  journey 
lies,  and  we  continue  to  approach  to  the  granite  chain  of  eminences 
which  stretch  before  us,  as  if  to  bar  our  passage. 

i  Or  this  visit  to  Pompeii  Sir  W.  Gell  says—  ined.  however,  with  more  interest  the  "splen- 

"  Sir  Walter  viewed  the  whole  with  a  poet's  did  mosaic  representing  a  combat  of  the  Greeks 

eye,  not  that   of  an   antiquarian,  exclaiming  and  the  Persians. " — Life,  vol.  x.  p.  159. 
frequently,  '  The  city  of  the  Dead ! ' ''  He  exam- 


680  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

As  we  advanced  to  meet  the  great  barrier  of  cliffs,  a  feature  be- 
comes opposed  to  us  of  a  very  pronounced  character,  which  seems 
qualified  to  interrupt  our  progress.  A  road  leading  straight  across 
the  branch  of  hills  is  carried  up  the  steepest  part  of  the  mountain, 
ascending  by  a  succession  of  zig-zags,  which  the  French  laid  by  scale 
straight  up  the  hill.  The  tower  is  situated  upon  an  artificial  emi- 
nence, worked  to  a  point  and  placed  in  a  defensible  position  between 
two  hills  about  the  same  height,  the  access  to  which  the  defenders  of 
the  pass  could  effectually  prohibit. 

Sir  William  Gell,  whose  knowledge  of  the  antiquities  of  this 
country  is  extremely  remarkable,  acquainted  us  with  the  history. 

In  the  middle  ages  the  pasturages  on  the  slope  of  these  hills,  es- 
pecially on  the  other  side,  belonged  to  the  rich  republic  of  Amalfi, 
who  built  this  tower  as  an  exploratory  gazeeboo  from  which  they 
could  watch  the  motions  of  the  Saracens  who  were  wont  to  annoy 
them  with  plundering  excursions;  but  after  this  fastness  [was  built] 
the  people  of  Amalfi  usually  defeated  and  chastised  them.  The  ride 
over  the  opposite  side  of  the  mountain  was  described  as  so  uncom- 
monly pleasant  as  made  me  long  to  ride  it  with  assistance  of  a  pony. 
That,  however,  was  impossible.  We  arrived  at  a  country  house,  near 
a  large  town  situated  in  a  ravine  or  hollow,  which  was  called  La  Cava 
from  some  concavities  which  is  exhibited. 

We  were  received  by  Miss  Whyte,  an  English  lady  who  has  set- 
tled at  La  Cava,  and  she  afforded  us  the  warmest  hospitality  that  is 
consistent  with  a  sadly  cold  chilling  house.  They  may  say  what  they 
like  of  the  fine  climate  of  Naples — unquestionably  they  cannot  say  too 
much  in  its  favour,  but  yet  when  a  day  or  two  of  cold  weather  does 
come,  the  inhabitants  are  without  the  means  of  parrying  the  tem- 
porary inclemency,  which  even  a  Scotsman  would  scorn  to  submit  to. 
However,  warm  or  cold,  to  bed  we  went,  and  rising  next  morning  at 
seven  we  left  La  Cava,  and,  making  something  like  a  sharp  turn  back- 
wards, but  keeping  nearer  to  the  Gulf  of  Salerno  than  in  yesterday's 
journey,  and  nearer  to  its  shore.  W"e  had  a  good  road  towards  Paes- 
tum,  and  in  defiance  of  a  cold  drizzling  day  we  went  on  at  a  round 
pace.  The  country  through  which  we  travelled  was  wooded  and 
stocked  with  wild  animals  towards  the  fall  of  the  hills,  and  we  saw 
at  a  nearer  distance  a  large  swampy  plain,  pastured  by  a  singularly 
bizarre  but  fierce-looking  buffalo,  though  it  might  maintain  a  much 
preferable  stock.  This  palace  of  Barranco  was  anciently  kept  up  for 
the  King's  sport,  but  any  young  man  having  a  certain  degree  of  in- 
terest is  allowed  to  share  in  the  chase,  which  it  is  no  longer  an  object 
to  preserve.  The  guest,  however,  if  he  shoots  a  deer,  or  a  buffalo,  or 
wild  boar,  must  pay  the  keeper  at  a  certain  fixed  price,  not  much 
above  its  price  in  the  market,  which  a  sportsman  would  hardly  think 
above  its  worth  for  game  of  his  own  killing.  The  town  of  Salerno 
is  a  beautiful  seaport  town,  and  it  is,  as  it  were,  wrapt  in  an  Italian 
cloak  hanging  round  the  limbs,  or,  to  speak  common  sense,  the  new 


1832.]  JOURNAL  581 

streets  which  they  are  rebuilding.  We  made  no  stop  at  Salerno,  but 
continued  to  traverse  the  great  plain  of  that  name,  within  sight  of  the 
sea,  which  is  chiefly  pastured  by  that  queer-looking  brute,  the  buffalo, 
concerning  which  they  have  a  notion  that  it  returns  its  value  sooner, 
and  with  less  expense  of  feeding,  than  any  other  animal. 

At  length  we  came  to  two  streams  which  join  their  forces,  and 
would  seem  to  flow  across  the  plain  to  the  bottom  of  the  hills.  One, 
however,  flows  so  flat  as  almost  scarcely  to  move,  and  sinking  into 
a  kind  of  stagnant  pool  is  swallowed  up  by  the  earth,  without  pro- 
ceeding any  further  until,  after  remaining  buried  for  two  or  three 
[miles  ?]  underground,  it  again  bursts  forth  to  the  light,  and  resumes 
its  course.  When  we  crossed  this  stream  by  a  bridge,  which  they 
are  now  repairing,  we  entered  a  spacious  plain,  very  like  that  which 
we  had  [left]  and  displaying  a  similar  rough  and  savage  cultivation. 
Here  savage  herds  were  under  the  guardianship  of  shepherds  as  wild 
as  they  were  themselves,  clothed  in  a  species  of  sheep-skins,  and  carry- 
ing a  sharp  spear  with  which  they  herd  and  sometimes  kill  their  buf- 
faloes. Their  farmhouses  are  in  very  poor  order,  and  with  every  mark 
of  poverty,  and  they  have  the  character  of  being  moved  to  dishon- 
esty by  anything  like  opportunity ;  of  this  there  was  a  fatal  instance, 
but  so  well  avenged  that  it  is  not  like  to  be  repeated  till  it  has  long 
faded  out  of  memory.  The  story,  I  am  assured,  happened  exactly  as 
follows : — A  certain  Mr.  Hunt,  lately  married  to  a  lady  of  his  own 
age,  and,  seeming  to  have  had  what  is  too  often  the  Englishman's 
characteristic  of  more  money  than  wit,  arrived  at  Naples  a  year  en- 
two  ago  en  famille,  and  desirous  of  seeing  all  the  sights  in  the  vicini- 
ty of  this  celebrated  place.  Among  others  Paestum  was  not  forgot. 
At  one  of  the  poor  farmhouses  where  they  stopped,  the  inhabitant  set 
her  eyes  on  a  toilet  apparatus  which  was  composed  of  silver  and  had 
the  appearance  of  great  value.  The  woman  who  spread  this  report 
addressed  herself  to  a  youth  who  had  been  [under]  arms,  and  un- 
doubtedly he  and  his  companions  showed  no  more  hesitation  than 
the  person  with  whom  the  idea  had  originated.  Five  fellows,  not 
known  before  this  time  for  any  particular  evil,  agreed  to  rob  the  Eng- 
lish gentleman  of  the  treasure  of  which  he  had  made  such  an  impru- 
dent display.  They  were  attacked  by  the  banditti  in  several  parties, 
but  the  principal  attack  was  directed  to  Mr.  Hunt's  carriage,  a  servant 
of  that  gentleman  being,  as  well  as  himself,  pulled  out  of  the  carriage 
and  watched  by  those  who  had  undertaken  to  conduct  this  bad  deed. 
The  man  who  had  been  the  soldier,  probably  to  keep  up  his  courage, 
began  to  bully,  talk  violently,  and  strike  the  valet  de  place,  who  scream- 
ed out  in  a  plaintive  manner,  "  Do  not  injure  me."  His  master,  hop- 
ing to  make  some  impression,  said,  "  Do  not  hurt  my  servant,"  to 
which  the  principal  brigand  replied,  "  If  he  dares  to  resist,  shoot 
him."  The  man  who  stood  over  Mr.  Hunt  unfortunately  took  the 
captain  at  the  word,  and  his  shot  mortally  wounded  the  unfortunate 
gentleman  and  his  wife,  who  both  died  next  day  at  our  landlady's, 


582  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

Miss  Whyte,  who  had  the  charity  to  receive  them  that  they  might 
hear  their  own  language  on  their  deathbed.  The  Neapolitan  Gov- 
ernment made  the  most  uncommon  exertions.  The  whole  of  the  as- 
sassins were  taken  within  a  fortnight,  and  executed  within  a  week 
afterwards.  In  this  wild  spot,  rendered  unpleasing  by  the  sad  re- 
membrance of  so  inhuman  an  accident,  and  the  cottages  which  served 
for  refuge  for  so  wretched  and  wild  a  people,  exist  the  celebrated 
ruins  of  Paestum.  Being  without  arms  of  any  kind,  the  situation 
was  a  dreary  one,  and  though  I  can  scarce  expect  now  to  defend  my- 
self effectually,  yet  the  presence  of  [illegible]  would  have  been  an  in- 
finite cordial.  The  ruins  are  of  very  great  antiquity,  which  for  a  very 
long  time  has  not  been  suspected,  as  it  was  never  supposed  that  the 
Sybarites,  a  luxurious  people,  were  early  possessed  of  a  style  of  archi- 
tecture simple,  chaste,  and  inconceivably  grand,  which  was  lost  before 
the  time  of  Augustus,  who  is  said  by  Suetonius  to  have  undertaken  a 
journey  on  purpose  to  visit  these  remains  of  an  architecture,  the  most 
simple  and  massive  of  which  Italy  at  least  has  any  other  specimen. 
The  Greeks  have  specimens  of  the  same  kind,  but  they  are  composed 
not  of  stone,  like  Paestum,  but  of  marble.  All  this  has  been  a  dis- 
covery of  recent  date.  The  ruins,  which  exist  without  exhibiting 
much  demolition,  are  three  in  number.  The  first  is  a  temple  of  im- 
mense size,  having  a  portico  of  the  largest  columns  of  the  most  awful 
species  of  classic  architecture.  The  roof,  which  was  composed  of  im- 
mense stones,  was  destroyed,  but  there  are  remains  of  the  Cella,  con- 
trived for  the  sacrifices  to  which  the  priests  and  persons  of  high  of- 
fice were  alone  [admitted]. 

A  piece  of  architecture  more  massive,  without  being  cumbrous  or 
heavy,  was  never  invented  by  a  mason. 

A  second  temple  in  the  same  style  was  dedicated  to  Ceres  as  the 
large  one  was  to  Neptune,  on  whose  dominion  they  Jooked,  and  who 
was  the  tutelar  deity  of  Paestum,  and  so  called  from  one  of  his  Greek 
names.  The  fane  of  Ceres  is  finished  with  the  greatest  accuracy  and 
beauty  of  proportion  and  taste,  and  in  looking  upon  it  I  forgot  all  the 
unpleasant  feelings  which  at  first  oppressed  me.  The  third  was  not  a 
temple,  but  a  Basilica,  or  species  of  town-house,  as  it  was  called,  hav- 
ing a  third  row  of  pillars  running  up  the  middle,  between  the  two 
which  surrounded  the  sides,  and  were  common  to  the  Basilica  and 
temple  both.  These  surprising  public  edifices  have  therefore  all  a  re- 
semblance to  each  other,  though  also  points  of  distinction.  If  Sir 
William  Gell  makes  clear  his  theory  he  will  throw  a  most  precious 
light  on  the  origin  of  civilisation,  proving  that  the  sciences  have  not 
sprung  at  once  into  light  and  life,  but  rose  gradually  with  extreme 
purity,  and  continued  to  be  practised  best  by  those  who  first  invented 
them.  Full  of  these  reflections,  we  returned  to  our  hospitable  Miss 
Whyte  in  a  drizzling  evening,  but  unassassinated,  and  our  hearts  com- 
pletely filled  with  the  magnificence  of  what  we  had  seen.  Miss 
Whyte  had  in  the  meanwhile,  by  her  interest  at  La  Trinita  with  tin1 


1832.]  JOURNAL  583 

Abbot,  obtained  us  permission  to  pay  a  visit  to  him,  and  an  invita- 
tion indeed  to  dinner,  which  only  the  weather  and  the  health  of  Sir 
William  Gell  and  myself  prevented  our  accepting.  After  breakfast, 
therefore,  on  the  18th  of  March,  we  set  out  for  the  convent,  situated 
about  two  or  three  miles  from  the  town  in  a  very  large  ravine,  not 
unlike  the  bed  of  the  Rosslyn  river,  and  traversed  by  roads  which 
from  their  steepness  and  precipitancy  are  not  at  all  laudable,  but  the 
views  were  beautiful  and  changing  incessantly,  while  the  spring  ad- 
vancing was  spreading  her  green  mantle  over  rock  and  tree,  and  mak- 
ing that  beautiful  which  was  lately  a  blighted  and  sterile  thicket. 
The  convent  of  Trintia  itself  holds  a  most  superb  situation  on  the 
projection  of  an  ample  rock.  It  is  a  large  edifice,  but  not  a  hand- 
some one — the  monks  reserving  their  magnificence  for  their  churches 
— but  was  surrounded  by  a  circuit  of  fortifications,  which,  when  there 
was  need,  were  manned  by  the  vassals  of  the  convent  in  the  style  of 
the  Feudal  system.  This  was  in  some  degree  the  case  at  the  present 
day.  The  Abbot,  a  gentlemanlike  and  respectable-looking  man,  at- 
tended by  several  of  his  monks,  received  us  with  the  greatest  polite- 
ness, and  conducted  us  to  the  building,  where  we  saw  two  great 
sculptured  vases,  or  more  properly  sarcophagi,  of  [marble?],  well 
carved  in  the  antique  style,  and  adorned  with  the  story  of  Meleager. 
They  were  in  the  shape  of  a  large  bath,  and  found,  I  think,  at  Paestum. 
The  old  church  had  passed  to  decay  about  a  hundred  years  ago,  when 
the  present  fabric  was  built;  it  is  very  beautifully  arranged,  and 
worthy  of  the  place,  which  is  eminently  beautiful,  and  of  the  com- 
munity, who  are  Benedictines — the  most  gentlemanlike  order  in  the 
Roman  Church. 

We  were  conducted  to  the  private  repertory  of  the  chapel,  which 
contains  a  number  of  interesting  deeds  granted  by  sovereigns  of  the 
Grecian,  Norman,  and  even  Saracen  descent.  One  from  Roger,  king 
of  Sicily,  extended  His  Majesty's  protection  to  some  half  dozen  men 
of  consequence  whose  names  attested  their  Saracenism. 

In  all  the  society  I  have  been  since  I  commenced  this  tour,  I 
chiefly  regretted  on  the  present  occasion  the  not  having  refreshed  my 
Italian  for  the  purpose  of  conversation.  I  should  like  to  have  con- 
versed with  the  Churchmen  very  much,  and  they  seem  to  have  the 
same  inclination,  but  it  is  too  late  to  be  thought  of,  though  I  could 
read  Italian  well  once.  The  church  might  boast  of  a  grand  organ, 
with  fifty-seven  stops,  all  which  we  heard  played  by  the  ingenious 
organist.  We  then  returned  to  Miss  Whyte's  for  the  evening,  ate  a 
mighty  dinner,  and  battled  cold  weather  as  we  might. 

In  further  remarks  on  Paestum  I  may  say  there  is  a  city  wall  in 
wonderful  preservation,  one  of  the  gates  of  which  is  partly  entire  and 
displays  the  figure  of  a  Syren  under  the  architrave,  but  the  antiquity 
of  the  sculpture  is  doubted,  though  not  that  of  the  inner  part  of  the 
gate — so  at  least  thinks  Sir  William,  our  best  authority  on  such  mat- 
ters. Many  antiquities  have  been,  and  many  more  probably  will  be, 


584  JOURNAL  [MARCH 

discovered.  Paestum  is  a  place  which  adds  dignity  to  the  peddling 
trade  of  the  ordinary  antiquarian. 

March  19. — This  morning  we  set  off  at  seven  for  Naples ;  we  ob- 
served remains  of  an  aqueduct  in  a  narrow,  apparently  designed  for 
the  purpose  of  leading  water  to  La  Cava,  but  had  no  time  to  conject- 
ure on  the  subject,  and  took  our  road  back  to  Pompeii,  and  passed 
through  two  towns  of  the  same  name,  Nocera  dei  [Cristiani]  and 
Nocera  dei  Pagani.1  In  the  latter  village  the  Saracens  obtained  a 
place  of  refuge,  from  which  it  takes  the  name.  It  is  also  said  that 
the  circumstance  is  kept  in  memory  by  the  complexion  and  features 
of  this  second  Nocera,  which  are  peculiarly  of  the  African  caste  and 
tincture.  After  we  passed  Pompeii,  where  the  continued  severity  of 
the  weather  did  not  permit  us,  according  to  our  purpose,  to  take  an- 
other survey,  we  saw  in  the  adjacent  village  between  us  and  Portici 
the  scene  of  two  assassinations,  still  kept  in  remembrance.  The  one 
I  believe  was  from  the  motive  of  plunder.  The  head  of  the  assassin 
was  set  up  after  his  execution  upon  a  pillar,  which  still  exists,  and  it 
remained  till  the  skull  rotted  to  pieces.  The  other  was  a  story  less 
in  the  common  style,  and  of  a  more  interesting  character : — A  farmer 
of  an  easy  fortune,  and  who  might  be  supposed  to  leave  to  his 
daughter,  a  very  pretty  girl  and  an  only  child,  a  fortune  thought  in 
the  village  very  considerable.  She  was,  under  the  hope  of  sharing 
such  a  prize,  made  up  to  by  a  young  man  in  the  neighbourhood, 
handsome,  active,  and  of  a  very  good  general  character.  He  was  of 
that  sort  of  person  who  are  generally  successful  among  women,  and 
the  girl  was  supposed  to  have  encouraged  his  addresses;  but  JUT 
father,  on  being  applied  to,  gave  him  a  direct  and  positive  refusal. 
The  gallant  resolved  to  continue  his  addresses  in  hopes  of  overcom- 
ing this  obstacle  by  his  perseverance,  but  the  father's  opposition  seemed 
only  to  increase  by  the  lover's  pertinacity.  At  length,  as  the  father 
walked  one  evening  smoking  his  pipe  upon  the  terrace  before  his 
door,  the  lover  unhappily  passed  by,  and,  struck  with  the  instant 
thought  that  the  obstacle  to  the  happiness  of  his  life  was  now  entirely 
in  his  own  power,  he  rushed  upon  the  father,  pierced  him  with  three 
mortal  stabs  of  his  knife,  and  killed  him  dead  on  the  spot,  and  made 
his  escape  to  the  mountains.  What  was  most  remarkable  was  that 
he  was  protected  against  the  police,  who  went,  as  was  their  duty,  in 
quest  of  him,  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbourhood,  who  afforded 
him  both  shelter  and  such  food  as  he  required,  looking  on  him  less 
as  a  wilful  criminal  than  an  unfortunate  man,  who  had  been  surprised 
by  a  strong  and  almost  irresistible  temptation.  So  congenial,  at  this 
moment,  is  the  love  of  vengeance  to  an  Italian  bosom,  and  though 
chastised  in  general  by  severe  punishment,  so  much  are  criminals 
sympathised  with  by  the  community. 

March  20. — I  went  with  Miss  Talbot  and  Mr.  Lushington  and  his 

1  The  places  are  now  known  as  Nocera  Superiore  and  Nocera  Inferiore. 


1832.]  JOURNAL  585 

sister  to  the  great  and  celebrated  church  of  San  Domenico  Maggiore, 
which  is  the  most  august  of  the  Dominican  churches.  They  once 
possessed  eighteen  shrines  in  this  part  of  Naples.  It  contains  the 
tomb  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  also  the  tombs  of  the  royal  family, 
which  remain  in  the  vestry.  There  are  some  large  boxes  covered 
with  yellow  velvet  which  contain  their  remains,  and  which  stand 
ranged  on  a  species  of  shelf,  formed  by  the  heads  of  a  set  of  oaken 
presses  which  contain  the  vestments  of  the  monks.  The  pictures  of 
the  kings  are  hung  above  their  respective  boxes,  containing  their 
bones,  without  any  other  means  of  preserving  them.  At  the  bottom 
of  the  lofty  and  narrow  room  is  the  celebrated  Marquis  di  [Pes- 
cara],  one  of  Charles  v.'s  most  renowned  generals,  who  commanded 
at  the  battle  of  Pavia.  .  .  .  The  church  itself  is  very  large  and  ex- 
tremely handsome,  with  many  fine  marble  tombs  in  a  very  good  style 
of  architecture.  The  time  being  now  nearly  the  second  week  in  Lent, 
the  church  was  full  of  worshippers. 

[While  at  Naples  Sir  Walter  wrote  frequently  to  his  daughter,  to 
Mr.  Cadell,  Mr.  Laidlaw,  and  Mr.  Lockhart.  The  latter  says,  "  Some 
of  these  letters  were  of  a  very  melancholy  cast ;  for  the  dream  about 
his  debts  being  all  settled  was  occasionally  broken."  One  may  be 
given  here.  It  is  undated,  but  was  written  some  time  after  receiving 
the  news  of  the  death  of  his  little  grandson,  and  shows  the  tender 
relations  which  existed  between  Sir  Walter  and  his  son-in-law : — 

"  MY  DEAR  LOCKHART, — I  have  written  with  such  regularity  that 
...  I  will  not  recur  to  this  painful  subject.  I  hope  also  I  have  found 
you  both  persuaded  that  the  best  thing  you  can  do,  both  of  you,  is  to 
come  out  here,  where  you  would  find  an  inestimable  source  of  amuse- 
ment, many  pleasant  people,  and  living  in  very  peaceful  and  easy  so- 
ciety. I  wrote  you  a  full  account  of  my  own  matters,  but  I  have  now 
more  complete  [information].  I  am  ashamed,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  of  the  two  novels,  but  since  the  pensive  public  have  taken  them, 
there  is  no  more  to  be  said  but  to  eat  my  pudding  and  to  hold  my 
tongue.  Another  thing  of  great  interest  requires  to  be  specially  men- 
tioned. You  may  remember  a  work  in  which  our  dear  and  accom- 
plished friend  Lady  Louisa  condescended  to  take  an  oar,  and  which 
she  has  handled  most  admirably.  It  is  a  supposed  set  of  extracts  rela- 
tive to  James  vi.  from  a  collection  in  James  vi.'s  time,  the  costume  (?) 
admirably  preserved,  and,  like  the  fashionable  wigs,  more  natural  than 
one's  own  hair.  This,  with  the  Lives  of  the  Novelists  and  some  oth- 
er fragments  of  my  wreck,  went  ashore  in  Constable's,  and  were  sold 
off  to  the  highest  bidder,  viz.,  to  Cadell,  for  himself  and  me.  I  wrote 
one  or  two  fragments  in  the  same  style,  which  I  wish  should,  ac- 
cording to  original  intention,  appear  without  a  name,  and  were  they 
fairly  lightly  let  off  there  is  no  fear  of  their  making  a  blaze.  I  sent 
the  whole  packet  either  to  yourself  or  Cadell,  with  the  request.  The 
copy,  which  I  conclude  is  in  your  hands  by  the  time  this  reaches  you, 


586  JOURNAL  [MARCH,  1832. 

might  be  set  up  as  speedily  and  quietly  as  possible,  taking  some  little 
care  to  draw  the  public  attention  to  you,  and  consulting  Lady  Louisa 
about  the  proofs.  The  fun  is  that  our  excellent  friend  had  forgot  the 
whole  affair  till  I  reminded  her  of  her  kindness,  and  was  somewhat 
inclined,  like  Lady  Teazle,  to  deny  the  butler  and  the  coach-horse.  I 
have  no  doubt,  however,  she  will  be  disposed  to  bring  the  matter  to 
an  end.  The  mode  of  publication  I  fancy  you  will  agree  should  rest 
with  Cadell.  So,  providing  that  the  copy  come  to  hand,  which  it  usu- 
ally does,  though  not  very  regularly,  you  will  do  me  the  kindness  to 
get  it  out.  My  story  of  Malta  will  be  with  you  by  the  time  you  have 
finished  the  Letters,  and  if  it  succeeds  it  will  in  a  great  measure  en- 
able me  to  attain  the  long  projected  and  very  desirable  object  of  clear- 
ing me  from  all  old  encumbrances  and  expiring  as  rich  a  man  as  I 
could  desire  in  my  own  freehold.  And  when  you  recollect  that  this 
has  been  wrought  out  in  six  years,  the  sum  amounting  to  at  least 
£120,000,  it  is  somewhat  of  a  novelty  in  literature.  I  shall  be  as 
happy  and  rich  as  I  please  for  the  last  days  of  my  life,  and  play  the 
good  papa  with  my  family  without  thinking  on  pounds,  shillings,  and 
pence.  Cadell,  with  so  fair  a  prospect  before  him,  is  in  high  spirits, 
as  you  will  suppose,  but  I  had  a  most  uneasy  time  from  the  interrup- 
tion of  our  correspondence.  However,  thank  God,  it  is  all  as  well  as 
I  could  wish,  and  a  great  deal  better  than  I  ventured  to  hope.  After 
the  Siege  of  Malta  I  intend  to  close  the  [series]  of  Waverley  with  a 
poem  in  the  style  of  the  Lay,  or  rather  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  to  be 
a  L'Envoy,  or  final  postscript  to  these  tales.  The  subject  is  a  curious 
tale  of  chivalry  belonging  to  Rhodes.  Sir  Frederick  Adam  will  give 
me  a  cast  of  a  steam-boat  to  visit  Greece,  and  you  will  come  and  go 
with  me.  We  live  in  a  Palazzo,  which  with  a  coach  and  the  support- 
ers thereof  does  not,  table  included,  cost  £120  or  £130  a  month.  So 
you  will  add  nothing  to  our  expenses,  but  give  us  the  great  pleasure 
of  assisting  you  when  I  fear  literary  things  have  a  bad  time.  We  will 
return  to  Europe  through  Germany,  and  see  what  peradventure  we 
shall  behold.  I  have  written  repeatedly  to  you  on  this  subject,  for  you 
would  really  like  this  country  extremely.  You  cannot  tread  on  it  but 
you  set  your  foot  upon  some  ancient  history,  and  you  cannot  make 
scruple,  as  it  is  the  same  thing  whether  you  or  I  are  paymaster.  My 
health  continues  good,  and  bettering,  as  the  Yankees  say.  I  have 
gotten  a  choice  manuscript  of  old  English  Romances,  left  here  by 
Richard,  and  for  which  I  know  I  have  got  a  lad  can  copy  them  at  a 
shilling  a  day.  The  King  has  granted  me  liberty  to  carry  it  home 
with  me,  which  is  very  good-natured.  I  expect  to  secure  something 
for  the  Roxburghe  Club.  Our  posts  begin  to  get  more  regular.  I 
hope  dear  baby  is  getting  better  of  its  accident,  poor  soul. — Love  to 
Sophia  and  Walter. 

Your  affectionate  Father, 

WALTER  SCOTT.] 


APRIL 

April  15,  Naples. — I  am  ou  the  eve  of  leaving  Naples  after  a  resi- 
dence of  three  or  four  months,  my  strength  strongly  returning,  though 
the  weather  has  been  very  uncertain.  What  with  the  interruption  oc- 
casioned by  the  cholera  and  other  inconveniences,  I  have  not  done 
much.  I  have  sent  home  only  the  letters  by  L.  L.  Stuart  and  three 
volumes  of  the  Siege  of  Malta.  I  sent  them  by  Lord  Cowper's  son 
— Mr.  Cowper  returning,  his  leave  being  out  —  and  two  chests  of 
books  by  the  Messrs.  Turner,  Malta,  who  are  to  put  them  on  board  a 
vessel,  to  be  forwarded  to  Mr.  Cadell  through  "Whittaker.  I  have 
hopes  they  will  come  to  hand  safe.  I  have  bought  a  small  clos- 
ing carriage,  warranted  new  and  English,  cost  me  £200,  for  the  con- 
venience of  returning  home.  It  carries  Anne,  Charles,  and  the  two 
servants,  and  we  start  to-morrow  morning  for  Rome,  after  which  we 
shall  be  starting  homeward,  for  the  Greek  scheme  is  blown  up,  as  Sir 
Frederick  Adam  is  said  to  be  going  to-  Madras,  so  he  will  be  unable 
to  send  a  frigate  as  promised.  I  have  spent  on  the  expenses  of  med- 
ical persons  and  books,  etc.,  a  large  sum,  yet  not  excessive. 

Meantime  we  [may]  have  to  add  a  curious  journey  of  it.  The 
brigands,  of  whom  there  are  so  many  stories,  are  afloat  once  more, 
and  many  carriages  stopped.  A  curious  and  popular  work  would  be 
a  history  of  these  ruffians.  Washington  Irving  has  attempted  some- 
thing of  the  kind,  but  the  person  attempting  this  should  be  an  Ital- 
ian, perfectly  acquainted  with  his  country,  character,  and  manners. 
Mr.  R ,  an  apothecary,  told  me  a  singular  [occurrence]  which  hap- 
pened in  Calabria  about  six  years  ago,  and  which  1  may  set  down  just 
now  as  coming  from  a  respectable  authority,  though  I  do  not  [vouch 
h|. 

DEATH  OF  IL  BIZARRO. 

This  man  was  called,  from  his  wily  but  inexorable  temper,  II  Bi- 
zarro,  i.e.  the  Bizar.  He  was  captain  of  a  gang  of  banditti,  whom  he 
governed  by  his  own  authority,  till  he  increased  them  to  1000  men, 
both  on  foot  and  horseback,  whom  he  maintained  in  the  mountains 
of  Calabria,  between  the  French  and  Neapolitans,  both  of  whom  he 
defied,  and  pillaged  the  country.  High  rewards  were  set  upon  his 
head,  to  very  little  purpose,  as  he  took  care  to  guard  himself  against 
being  betrayed  by  his  own  gang,  the  common  fate  of  those  banditti 
who  become  great  in  their  vocation.  At  length  a  French  colonel, 
whose  name  I  have  forgot,  occupied  the  country  of  Bizarro,  with  such 
success  that  he  formed  a  cordon  around  him  and  his  party,  and  in- 


588  JOURNAL  [APRIL 

eluded  him  between  the  folds  of  a  military  column.  Well-nigh  driven 
to  submit  himself,  the  robber  with  his  wife,  a  very  handsome  woman, 
and  a  child  of  a  few  months  old,  took  a  position  beneath  the  arch  of 
an  old  bridge,  and,  by  an  escape  almost  miraculous,  were  not  perceived 
by  a  strong  party  whom  the  French  maintained  on  the  top  of  the 
arch.  Night  at  length  came  without  a  discovery,  which  every  moment 
might  have  made.  When  it  became  quite  dark,  the  brigand,  enjoin- 
ing strictest  silence  on  the  female  and  child,  resolved  to  steal  from 
his  place  of  shelter,  and  as  they  issued  forth,  kept  his  hand  on  the 
child's  throat.  But  as,  when  they  began  to  move,  the  child  naturally 
cried,  its  father  in  a  rage  stiffened  his  grip  so  relentlessly  that  the 
poor  infant  never  offended  more  in  the  same  manner.  This  horrid 
[act]  led  to  the  conclusion  of  the  robber's  life. 

His  wife  had  never  been  very  fond  of  him,  though  he  trusted  her 
more  than  any  who  approached  him.  She  had  been  originally  the 
wife  of  another  man,  murdered  by  her  second  husband,  which  second 
marriage  she  was  compelled  to  undergo,  and  to  affect  at  least  the  con- 
duct of  an  affectionate  wife.  In  their  wanderings  she  alone  knew 
where  he  slept  for  the  night.  He  left  his  men  in  a  body  upon  the 
top  of  an  open  hill,  round  which  they  set  watches.  He  then  went 
apart  into  the  woods  with  his  wife,  and  having  chosen  a  glen — an  ob- 
scure and  deep  thicket  of  the  woods,  there  took  up  his  residence  for 
the  night.  A  large  Calabrian  sheep-dog,  his  constant  attendant,  was 
then  tied  to  a  tree  at  some  distance  to  secure  his  slumbers,  and  hav- 
ing placed  his  carabine  within  reach  of  his  lair,  he  consigned  himself 
to  such  sleep  as  belongs  to  his  calling.  By  such  precautions  he  had 
secured  his  rest  for  many  years. 

But  after  the  death  of  the  child,  the  measure  of  his  offence  tow- 
ards the  unhappy  mother  was  full  to  the  brim,  and  her  thoughts  be- 
came determined  on  revenge.  One  evening  he  took  up  his  quarters 
for  the  night  with  these  precautions,  but  without  the  usual  success. 
He  had  laid  his  carabine  near  him,  and  betaken  himself  to  rest  as 
usual,  when  his  partner  arose  from  his  side,  and  ere  he  became  sen- 
sible she  had  done  so,  she  seized  [his  carabine],  and  discharging  [it] 
in  his  bosom,  ended  at  once  his  life  and  crimes.  She  finished  her 
work  by  cutting  off  the  brigand's  head,  and  carrying  it  to  the  princi- 
pal town  of  the  province,  where  she  delivered  it  to  the  police,  and 
claimed  the  reward  attached  to  his  head,  which  was  paid  accordingly. 
This  female  still  lives,  a  stately,  dangerous-looking  woman,  yet  scarce 
ill  thought  of,  considering  the  provocation. 

The  dog  struggled  extremely  to  get  loose  on  hearing  the  shot. 
Some  say  the  female  shot  it ;  others  that,  in  its  rage,  it  very  nearly 
gnawed  through  the  stout  young  tree  to  which  it  was  tied.  He  was 
worthy  of  a  better  master. 

The  distant  encampment  of  the  band  was  disturbed  by  the  firing 
of  the  Bizarro's  carabine  at  midnight.  They  ran  through  the  woods 
to  seek  the  captain,  but  finding  him  lifeless  and  headless,  they  be- 


1832.J  JOURNAL  589 

came  so  much  surprised  that  many  of  them  surrendered  to  the  gov- 
ernment, and  relinquished  their  trade,  and  the  band  of  Bizarro,  as  it 
lived  by  his  ingenuity,  broke  up  by  his  death. 

A  story  is  told  nearly  as  horrible  as  the  above,  respecting  the  cru- 
elty of  this  bandit,  which  seems  to  entitle  him  to  be  called  one  of  the 
most  odious  wretches  of  his  name.  A  French  officer,  who  had  been 
active  in  the  pursuit  of  him,  fell  into  his  hands,  and  was  made  to  die 
[tlie  death]  of  Marsyas  or  Saint  Polycarp — that  is,  the  period  being 
the  middle  of  summer,  he  was  flayed  alive,  and,  being  smeared  with 
honey,  was  exposed  to  all  the  intolerable  insects  of  a  southern  sky. 
The  corps  were  also  informed  where  they  might  find  their  officer  if 
they  thought  proper  to  send  for  him.  As  more  than  two  days  elapsed 
before  the  wretched  man  was  found,  nothing  save  his  miserable  relics 
could  be  discovered. 

I  do  not  warrant  these  stories,  but  such  are  told  currently. 

[Tour  from  Naples  to  Home],  April  16. — Having  remained  several 
months  at  Naples,  we  resolved  to  take  a  tour  to  Rome  during  the 
Holy  Week  and  view  the  ecclesiastical  shows  which  take  place,  al- 
though diminished  in  splendour  by  the  Pope's  poverty.  So  on  the 
15th  we  set  out  from  Naples,  my  children  unwell.  We  passed 
through  the  Champ  de  Mars,1  and  so  on  by  the  Terra  di  Lavoro,  a 
rich  and  fertile  country,  and  breakfasted  at  St.  Agatha,  a  wretched 
place,  but  we  had  a  disagreeable  experience.  I  had  purchased  a 
travelling  carriage,  assured  that  it  was  English-built  and  all  that. 
However,  when  we  were  half  a  mile  on  our  journey,  a  bush  started 
and  a  wheel  came  off,  but  by  dint  of  contrivances  we  fought  our  way 
back  to  Agatha,  where  we  had  a  miserable  lodging  and  wretched 
dinner.  The  people  were  civil,  however,  and  no  bandits  abroad,  be- 
ing kept  in  awe  by  the  escort  of  the  King  of  Westphalia,2  who  was 
on  his  road  to  Naples.  The  wheel  was  effectually  repaired,  and  at 
seven  in  the  morning  we  started  with  some  apprehension  of  suffering 
from  crossing  the  very  moist  marshes  called  the  Pontine  Bogs,  which 
lie  between  Naples  and  Rome.  This  is  not  the  time  when  these  ex- 
halations are  most  dangerous,  though  they  seem  to  be  safe  at  no 
time.  We  remarked  the  celebrated  Capua,  which  is  distinguished 
into  the  new  and  old.  The  new  Capua  is  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
Volturno,  which  conducts  its  waters  into  the  moats.  It  is  still  a 
place  of  some  strength  in  modern  war.  The  approach  to  the  old 
Capua  is  obstructed  by  an  ancient  bridge  of  a  singular  construction, 
and  consists  of  a  number  of  massive  towers  half  ruined.  We  did  not 
pass  very  near  to  them,  but  the  site  seems  very  strong.  We  passed 
Sinuessa  or  Sessa,  an  ancient  Greek  town,  situated  not  far  from  shore. 
The  road  from  Naples  to  Capua  resembles  an  orchard  on  both  sides, 
but,  alas !  it  runs  through  these  infernal  marshes,  which  there  is  no 
shunning,  and  which  the  example  of  many  of  my  friends  proves  to  be 
exceeding  dangerous.  The  road,  though  it  has  the  appearance  of 

1  Paese  dei  Marti  or  Marsica.  *  Jerome  Bonaparte,  ex-King  of  Westphalia. 


590  JOURNAL  [APRIL,  1832. 

winding  among  hills,  is  in  fact,  on  the  left  side,  limited  by  the  sea- 
coast  running  northward.  It  comes  into  its  more  proper  line  at  a  cel- 
ebrated sea-marsh  called  Cameria1,  concerning  which  the  oracle  said 
"Ne  moveas  Camarinam"  and  the  transgression  of  which  precept 
brought  on  a  pestilence.  The  road  here  is  a  wild  pass  bounded  by  a 
rocky  precipice ;  on  one  hand  covered  with  wild  shrubs,  flowers,  and 
plants,  and  on  the  other  by  the  sea.  After  this  we  came  to  a  mili- 
tary position,  where  Murat  used  to  quarter  a  body  of  troops  and  can- 
nonade the  English  gunboats,  which  were  not  slow  in  returning  the 
compliment.  The  English  then  garrisoned  Italy  and  Sicily  under  Sir 
[John  Stuart].  We  supped  at  this  place,  half  fitted  up  as  a  barrack, 
half  as  an  inn.  (The  place  is  now  called  Terracina.)  Near  this  a 
round  tower  is  shown,  termed  the  tomb  of  Cicero,  which  may  be 
doubted.  I  ought,  before  quitting  Terracina,  to  have  mentioned  the 
view  of  the  town  and  castle  of  Gaeta  from  the  Pass.  It  is  a  castle  of 
great  strength.  I  should  have  mentioned  A  versa,  remarkable  for  a 
house  for  insane  persons,  on  the  humane  plan  of  not  agitating  their 
passions.  After  a  long  pilgrimage  on  this  beastly  road  we  fell  asleep 
in  spite  of  warnings  to  the  contrary,  and  before  we  beat  the  reveille 
were  within  twenty  miles  of  the  city  of  Rome.  I  think  I  felt  the  ef- 
fects of  the  bad  air  and  damp  in  a  very  bad  headache. 

After  a  steep  climb  up  a  slippery  ill-paved  road  Velletri  received 
us,  and  accommodated  us  in  an  ancient  villa  or  chateau,  the  original 
habitation  of  an  old  noble.  I  would  have  liked  much  to  have  taken 
a  look  at  it ;  but  I  am  tired  by  my  ride.  I  fear  my  time  for  such  re- 
searches is  now  gone.  Monte  Albano,  a  pleasant  place,  should  also 
be  mentioned,  especially  a  forest  of  grand  oaks,  which  leads  you  pret- 
ty directly  into  the  vicinity  of  Rome.  My  son  Charles  had  requested 
the  favour  of  our  friend  Sir  William  Gell  to  bespeak  a  lodging,  which, 
considering  his  bad  health,  was  scarcely  fair.  My  daughter  had  im- 
posed the  same  favour,  but  they  had  omitted  to  give  precise  direction 
how  to  correspond  with  their  friends  concerning  the  execution  of  their 
commission.  So  there  we  were,  as  we  had  reason  to  think,  possessed 
of  two  apartments  and  not  knowing  the  [way]  to  any  of  them.  We 
entered  Rome  by  a  gate2  renovated  by  one  of  the  old  Pontiffs,  but 
which,  I  forget,  and  so  paraded  the  streets  by  moonlight  to  discover, 
if  possible,  some  appearance  of  the  learned  Sir  William  Gell  or  the 
pretty  Mrs.  Ashley.  At  length  we  found  our  old  servant  who  guidrd 
us  to  the  lodgings  taken  by  Sir  William  Gell,  where  all  was  comforta- 
ble, a  good  fire  included,  which  our  fatigue  and  the  chilliness  of  the 
night  required.  We  dispersed  as  soon  as  we  had  taken  some  food, 
wine,  and  water. 

We  slept  reasonably,  but  on  the  next  morning 

1  The  sea  marsh  '•  Cameria"  is  not  indicated  marsh  "which  Fate  forbad  to  drain.''— Con- 
in  the  latest  maps  of  Italy,  but  it  would  appear  ington's  Virgil  (JEn.  iii.  700-1). 
that  some  such  name  in  the  Pontinc  Bogs  had 

recalled  to  Sir  Walter  the  ancient  proverb  re-          2  Porta  St.  Giovanni,  rebuilt  by  Gregory  sin. 

lating  to  Camarina,  that  Sicilian  city  on  tho  in  1574. 


APPENDIX 

No.  I. 

SCOTT'S    LETTERS    TO   ERSKINE. P.    40. 

SIR  WALTER  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting  him  in  those  matters 
more  than  any  of  his  other  friends,  having  great  reliance  upon  his 
critical  skill.  The  manuscripts  of  all  his  poems,  and  also  of  the  ear- 
lier of  his  prose  works,  were  submitted  to  Kinnedder's  judgment,  and 
a  considerable  correspondence  on  these  subjects  had  taken  place  be- 
twixt them,  which  would,  no  doubt,  have  constituted  one  of  the  most 
interesting  series  of  letters  Sir  Walter  had  left. 

Lord  Kinnedder  was  a  man  of  retired  habits,  but  little  known  ex- 
cept to  those  with  whom  he  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy,  and  by  whom 
he  was  much  esteemed,  and  being  naturally  of  a  remarkably  sensitive 
mind,  he  was  altogether  overthrown  by  the  circumstance  of  a  report 
having  got  abroad  of  some  alleged  indiscretions  on  his  part  in  which 
a  lady  was  also  implicated.  WThether  the  report  had  any  foundation 
in  truth  or  not,  I  am  altogether  ignorant,  but  such  an  allegation  af- 
fecting a  person  in  his  situation  in  life  as  a  judge,  and  doing  such 
violence  to  the  susceptibility  of  his  feelings,  had  the  effect  of  bring- 
ing a  severe  illness  which  in  a  few  days  terminated  his  life.  I  never 
saw  Sir  Walter  so  much  affected  by  any  event,  and  at  the  funeral, 
which  he  attended,  he  was  quite  unable  to  suppress  his  feelings,  but 
wept  like  a  child.  The  family,  suddenly  bereft  of  their  protector, 
were  young,  orphans,  their  mother,  daughter  of  Professor  John  Rob- 
ertson, having  previously  died,  found  also  that  they  had  to  struggle 
against  embarrassed  circumstances  ;  neither  had  they  any  near  rela- 
tive in  Scotland  to  take  charge  of  their  affairs.  But  a  lady,  a  friend 
of  the  family,  Miss  M ,  was  active  in  their  service,  and  it  so  hap- 
pened, in  the  course  of  arranging  their  affairs,  the  packet  of  letters 
from  Sir  Walter  Scott,  containing  the  whole  of  his  correspondence 
with  Lord  Kinnedder,  came  into  her  hands.  She  very  soon  discov- 
ered that  the  correspondence  laid  open  the  secret  of  the  authorship 
of  the  Waverley  Novels,  at  that  period  the  subject  of  general  and  in- 
tense interest,  and  as  yet  unacknowledged  by  Sir  Walter. 

Considering  what  under  these  circumstances  it  was  her  duty  to 
do,  whether  to  replace  the  letters  and  suffer  any  accident  to  bring  to 
light  what  the  author  seemed  anxious  might  remain  unknown,  or  to 


592  APPENDIX 

seal  them  up,  and  keep  them  in  her  own  custody  undivulged — or 
finally  to  destroy  them  in  order  to  preserve  the  secret, — with,  no 
doubt,  the  best  and  most  upright  motives,  so  far  as  her  own  judg- 
ment enabled  her  to  decide  in  the  matter,  in  which  she  was  unable  to 
take  advice,  without  betraying  what  it  was  her  object  to  respect,  she 
came  to  the  resolution,  most  unfortunately  for  the  world,  of  destroy- 
ing the  letters.  And,  accordingly,  the  whole  of  them  were  committed 
to  the  flames  ;  depriving  the  descendants  of  Lord  Kinnedder  of  a  pos- 
session which  could  not  fail  to  be  much  valued  by  them,  and  which, 
in  connection  with  Lord  Kinnedder's  letters  to  Sir  Walter,  which  are 
doubtless  preserved,  would  have  been  equally  valuable  to  the  public, 
as  containing  the  contemporary  opinions,  prospects,  views,  and  senti- 
ments under  which  these  works  were  sent  forth  into  the  world.  It 
would  also  have  been  curious  to  learn  the  unbiased  impression  which 
the  different  works  created  on  the  mind  of  such  a  man  as  Lord  Kin- 
nedder, before  the  collision  of  public  opinion  had  suffused  its  influ- 
ence over  the  opinions  of  people  in  general  in  this  matter. — Skene's 
Reminiscences. 


No.  II. 

LETTER  FROM  MR.  CARLYLE  REFERRED  TO  ON  p.  379. ' 

EDINBURGH,  21  COMKLY  BANK, 
13th  April  1828. 

SIR, — In  February  last  I  had  the  honour  to  receive  a  letter  from 
Von  Goethe,  announcing  the  speedy  departure,  from  Weimar,  of  a 
Packet  for  me,  in  which,  among  other  valuables,  should  be  found 
"  two  medals,"  to  be  delivered  "  mil  verbindlichsten  Grusscn  "  to  Sir 
Walter  Scott.  By  a  slow  enough  conveyance  this  Kastchen,  with  its 
medals  in  perfect  safety,  has  at  length  yesterday  come  to  hand,  and 
now  lays  on  me  the  enviable  duty  of  addressing  you. 

Among  its  multifarious  contents,  the  Weimar  Box  failed  not  to 
include  a  long  letter — considerable  portion  of  which,  as  it  virtually 
belongs  to  yourself,  you  will  now  allow  me  to  transcribe.  Perhaps  it 
were  thriftier  in  me  to  reserve  this  for  another  occasion ;  but  consid- 
ering how  seldom  such  a  Writer  obtains  such  a  Critic,  I  cannot  but 


1  It  is  much  to  bo  regretted  that  Scott  and  took.  He  must,  however,  have  seen  Scott  sub- 
Carlyle  never  met.  The  probable  explanation  sequcntly,  as  he  depicts  him  in  the  memorable 
is  that  the  admirable  letter  now  printed  in  ex-  words,  "Alas!  his  fine  Scottish  face,  with  its 
teruo,  coming  into  a  house  where  there  was  shaggy  honesty  and  goodness,  when  we  saw  it 
sickness,  and  amid  the  turmoil  of  London  life,  latterly  in  the  Edinburgh  streets,  was  all  worn 
was  carefully  laid  aside  for  reply  at  a  more  with  care — the  joy  all  fled  from  it,  and  plough- 
convenient  season.  This  season,  unfortunate-  ed  deep  with  labour  and  sorrow." 
ly,  never  came.  Scott  did  not  return  to  Scot-  Mr.  Lockhart  once  said  to  a  friend  that  he 
land  until  June  3d,  and  by  that  time  Carlyle  regretted  that  they  had  never  met,  and  gave 
had  left  Edinburgh  and  settled  at  Craigcnput-  as  a  reason  the  state  of  Scott's  health. 


APPENDIX  593 

reckon  it  pity  that  this  friendly  intercourse  between  them  should  be 
anywise  delayed. 

"  Sehen  Sie  Herrn  Walter  Scott,  so  sagen  Sie  ihra  auf  das  verbind- 
lichste  in  meinem  Namen  Dank  fur  den  lieben  heitern  Brief,  geradc 
in  dem  schonen  Sinne  geschrieben,  dass  der  Mensch  dem  Menschen 
werth  seyn  miisse.  So  auch  habe  ich  dessen  Leben  Napoleon's  er- 
halten  und  solches  in  diesen  Winterabenden  und  Nachten  von  Anfang 
bis  zu  Ende  mit  Aufmerksamkeit  durchgelesen. 

"  Mir  war  hochst  bedeutend  zu  sehen,  wie  sich  der  erste  Erzahler 
des  Jahrhunderts  einem  so  ungemeinen  Geschaft  unterzieht  und  uns 
die  iiberwichtigen  Begebenheiten,  deren  Zeuge  zu  seyn  wir  gezwun- 
gen  wurden,  in  fertigem  Zuge  voriiberfuhrt.  Die  Abtheilung  durch 
Capitel  in  grosse  zusammengehorige  Massen  giebt  den  verschlungenen 
Ereignissen  die  reinste  Fasslichkeit,  und  so  wird  dann  auch  der  Vor- 
trag  des  Einzelnen  auf  das  unschatzbarste  deutlich  und  anschaulich. 

"  Ich  las  es  im  Original,  und  da  wirkte  es  ganz  eigentlich  seiner 
Natur  nach.  Es  ist  ein  patriotischer  Britte  der  spricht,  der  die  Hand- 
lungen  des  Feindes  nicht  wohl  mit  giinstigen  Augen  ansehen  kann, 
der  als  ein  rechtlicher  Staatsbiirger  zugleich  mit  den  Unternehmun- 
gen  der  Politik  auch  die  Forderungen  der  Sittlichkeit  befriedigt 
wiinscht,  der  den  Gegner,  im  frechen  Laufe  des  Gliicks,  mit  unseli- 
gen  Folgen  bedroht,  und  auch  im  bittersten  Verfall  ihn  kaum  bedau- 
crn  kann. 

"  Und  so  war  mir  noch  ausserdem  das  Werk  von  der  grossten  Be- 
deutung,  indem  es  mich  an  das  Miterlebte  theils  erinnerte,  theils  mir 
manches  Uebersehene  nun  vorfiihrte,  mich  auf  einem  unerwarteten 
Standpunkt  versetzte,  mir  zu  erwagen  gab  was  ich  f  iir  abgeschlossen 
hielt,  und  besonders  auch  mich  befahigte  die  Gegner  dieses  wichtigen 
Werkes,  an  denen  es  nicht  fehlen  kann,  zu  beurtheilen  und  die  Ein- 
wendungen,  die  sie  von  ihrer  Seite  vortragen,  zu  wiirdigen. 

"  Sie  sehen  hieraus  dass  zu  Ende  des  Jahres  keine  hohere  Gabe 
hatte  zu  mir  gelangen  konnen.  Es  ist  dieses  Werk  mir  zu  einem  gol- 
denen  Netz  geworden,  womit  ich  die  Schattenbilder  meines  vergan- 
genen  Lebens  aus  den  Lethes-Fluthen  mit  reichem  Zuge  herauszu- 
forschen  mich  beschaftige. 

"Ungefahr  dasselbige  denke  ich  in  dem  nachsten  Stiicke  von 
Kunst  und  Alterthum  zu  sagen." 

With  regard  to  the  medals,  which  are,  as  I  expected,  the  two  well- 
known  likenesses  of  Goethe  himself,  it  could  be  no  hard  matter  to 
dispose  of  them  safely  here,  or  transmit  them  to  you,  if  you  required 
it,  without  delay :  but  being  in  this  curious  fashion  appointed  as  it 
were  Ambassador  between  two  Kings  of  Poetry,  I  would  willingly  dis- 
charge my  mission  with  the  solemnity  that  beseems  such  a  business, 
and  naturally  it  must  flatter  my  vanity  and  love  of  the  marvellous,  to 
think  that,  by  means  of  a  Foreigner  whom  I  have  never  seen,  I  might 

38 


594  APPENDIX 

now  have  access  to  my  native  Sovereign,  whom  I  have  so  often  seen 
in  public  and  so  often  wished  that  I  had  claim  to  see  and  know  in 
private  and  near  at  hand. — Till  Whitsunday  I  continue  to  reside  here  ; 
and  shall  hope  that  some  time  before  that  period  I  may  have  oppor- 
tunity to  wait  on  you,  and,  as  my  commission  bore,  to  hand  you  these 
memorials  in  person. 

Meanwhile  I  abide  your  further  orders  in  this  matter ;  and  so, 
with  all  the  regard  which  belongs  to  one  to  whom  I  in  common  with 
other  millions  owe  so  much, — I  have  the  honour  to  be,  Sir,  most  re- 
spectfully your  servant,  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

Besides  the  two  medals  specially  intended  for  you,  there  have 
come  four  more,  which  I  am  requested  generally  to  dispose  of 
amongst  "  Wohlwollenden"  Perhaps  Mr.  Lockhart,  whose  merits  in 
respect  of  German  Literature,  and  just  appreciation  of  this  its  Pa- 
triarch and  Guide,  are  no  secret,  will  do  me  the  honour  to  accept 
of  one  and  direct  me  through  your  means  how  I  am  to  have  it  con- 
veyed ? 

TRANSLATION  OF  THE  LETTER  FROM  GOETHE. 

"  Should  you  see  Sir  Walter  Scott,  be  so  kind  as  return  to  him 
my  most  grateful  thanks  for  his  dear  and  cheerful  letter, — a  letter 
written  in  just  that  beautiful  temper  which  makes  one  man  feel  him- 
self to  be  worth  something  to  another.  Say,  too,  that  I  received  his 
Life  of  Napoleon,  and  have  read  it  this  winter — in  the  evening  and 
at  night — with  attention  from  beginning  to  end.  To  me  it  was  full 
of  meaning  to  observe  how  the  first  novelist  of  the  century  took  upon 
himself  a  task  and  business,  so  apparently  foreign  to  him,  and  passed 
under  review  with  rapid  stroke  those  important  events  of  which  it 
had  been  our  fate  to  be  eye-witnesses.  The  division  into  chapters, 
embracing  masses  of  intimately  connected  events,  gives  a  clearness 
to  the  historical  sequence  that  otherwise  might  have  been  only  too 
easily  confused,  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  individual  events  in 
each  chapter  are  described  with  a  clearness  and  a  vividness  quite  in- 
valuable. 

"  I  read  the  work  in  the  original,  and  the  impression  it  made  upon 
me  was  thus  free  from  the  disturbing  influence  of  a  foreign  medium. 
I  found  myself  listening  to  the  words  of  a  patriotic  Briton,  who  finds 
it  impossible  to  regard  the  actions  of  the  enemy  with  a  favourable 
eye, — an  honest  citizen  this,  whose  desire  is,  that  while  political  con- 
siderations shall  always  receive  due  weight,  the  demands  of  morality 
shall  never  be  overlooked ;  one  who,  while  the  enemy  is  borne  along 
in  his  wanton  course  of  good  fortune,  cannot  forbear  to  point  with 
warning  finger  to  the  inevitable  consequences,  and  in  his  bitterest  dis- 
aster can  with  difficulty  find  him  worthy  of  a  tear. 

"  The  book  was  in  yet  another  respect  of  the  greatest  importance 


APPENDIX  505 

to  me,  in  that  it  brought  back  to  my  remembrance  events  through 
which  I  had  lived — now  showing  me  much  that  I  had  overlooked, 
now  transplanting  me  to  some  unexpected  stand-point,  thus  forcing 
me  to  reconsider  a  question  which  I  had  looked  upon  as  settled,  and 
in  a  special  manner  putting  me  in  a  position  to  pass  judgment  upon 
the  unfavourable  critics  of  this  book — for  these  cannot  fail — and  to 
estimate  at  their  true  value  the  objections  which  are  sure  to  be  made 
from  their  side.  From  all  this  you  will  understand  how  the  end  of 
last  year  could  have  brought  with  it  no  gift  more  welcome  to  me 
than  this  book.  The  work  has  become  to  me  as  it  were  a  golden  net, 
wherewith  I  can  recover  from  out  the  waves  of  Lethe  the  shadowy 
pictures  of  my  past  life,  and  in  that  rich  draught  I  am  finding  my 
present  employment. 

"  I  intend  making  a  few  remarks  to  the  same  purpose  in  the  next 
number  of  Kunst  und  Alterthum"  ' 


No.  III. 

CONTENTS  OF  THE  VOLUME  OF  IRISH  MANUSCRIPT  REFERRED  TO  ON 

p.  465. 

1.  The  rudiments  of  an  Irish  Grammar  and  Prosody ;  the  first  leaf 
wanting. 

2.  The  Book  of  Rights ;  giving  an  account  of  ye  rents  and  subsi- 
dies of  the  kings  and  princes  of  Ireland.     It  is  said  to  have  (been) 
written  by  Beinin  MacSescnen,  the  Psalmist  of  Saint  Patrick.     It  is 
entirely  in  verse,  except  a  few  sentences  of  prose  taken  from  ye  booke 
of  Glandelogh. 

3.  A  short  poem  giving  an  account  of  ye  disciples  and  favourites 
of  St.  Patrick. 

4.  A  poem  of  Eochy  0  Flyn's  ;  giving  an  account  of  the  follow- 
ers of  Partholan,  the  first  invader  of  Ireland  after  the  flood. 

5.  A  poem  written  by  Macliag,  Brian  Boruay's  poet  Laureat.     It 
gives  an  account  of  the  twelve  sons  of  Kennedy,  son  of  Lorcan,  Bri- 
an's father ;  and  of  ye  Dalcassian  race  in  general. 

6.  A  book  of  annals  from  the  year  976  to  1014,  including  a  good 
account  of  the  battle  of  Clontarf,  etc. 

7.  A  collection  of  Historical  poems  by  different  authors,  such  as 

1  This  purpose  Goethe  seems  to  have  carried  following  entry  is  found:— "1827.     Ueber  neu- 

out,  for  in  the  "Chronologic  "  which  is  printed  ere  franzosische  Literatur. — Ueber  chinesische 

in  the  two- volume  edition  of  his  works,  pub-  Gedichte.  —  Ueber  das  Leben  Napoleon's  vor) 

lished  at  Stuttgart,  1837  (vol.  ii.  page  63),  the  Walter  Scott." 


596  APPENDIX 

O  Dugan,  etc.,  and  some  extracts,  as  they  seem,  from  the  psalter  of 
Cashill,  written  by  Cormac  -  mac  -  Cuilinan,  Archbishop  and  King  of 
Leath  Mogha,  towards  the  beginning  or  middle  of  the  ninth  century ; 
Cobhach  O  Carmon  and  O  Heagusa  have  their  part  in  these  poems. 
In  them  are  interspersed  many  other  miscellaneous  tracts,  among 
which  is  one  called  Sgeul-an-Erin,  but  deficient,  wherein  mention  is 
made  of  Garbh  mac  Stairn,  said  to  be  slain  by  Cuchullin ;  a  treatise 
explaining  the  Ogham  manner  of  writing  which  is  preserved  in  this 
book  ;•  the  privileges  of  the  several  kings  and  princes  of  Ireland,  in 
making  their  tours  of  the  Kingdom,  and  taking  their  seats  at  the 
Feis  of  Tara ;  and  an  antient  moral  and  political  poem  as  an  advice 
to  princes  and  chieftains,  other  poems  and  prophecies,  etc.,  chrono- 
logical and  religious,  disposed  in  no  certain  order. 

8.  The  last  will  and  testament  of  Cormac-mac-Cuilinan  in  verse. 

9.  The  various  forms  of  the  Ogham. 

10.  The  death  of  Cuchullin,  an  antient  story  interspersed  with 
poems,  which,  if  collected,  would  contain  the  entire  substance  of  the 
composition,  which  is  very  good  (except  in  one  instance)  and  founded 
on  real  fact. 

11.  The  bloody  revenge  of  Conall  Cearnach  for  the  death  of  Cu- 
chullin.    This  may  be  considered  as  the  sequel  of  the  preceding  sto- 
ry, and  of  equal  authority  and  antiquity.     It  is  written  in  the  very 
same  style,  and  contains  a  beautiful  elegy  on  Cuchullin  by  his  wife 
Eimhir. 

12.  The  death  of  Cormac  Con  luings,  written  in  the  same  style 
with  the  foregoing  stories. 

13.  The  genealogies  of  all  yc  principal  Irish  and  Anglo-Norman 
families  of  Ireland  to  the  end. 

14.  A  very  good  copy  of  the  Cath-Gabhra. 

The  above  table  of  contents  is  in  the  handwriting  of  Dr.  Matthew  Young,  late 
Bishop  of  Clonfert,  a  man  possessing  the  highest  talents  and  learning,  and  who  had 
been  acquainted  with  the  Irish  language  from  his  infancy.  J.  B. 


No.  IV. 

"A  FORMER  EMPRESS." — P.  572. 

The  Church  of  Santa  Maria  del  Carmine  contains  relics  dear  alike 
to  the  romance  of  democracy  and  empire.  It  was  from  this  church 
that  Masaniello  harangued  the  fickle  populace  in  vain ;  it  was  here 
that  he  was  despatched  by  three  bandits  in  the  pay  of  the  Duke  of 


APPENDIX  597 

Maddaloni ;  and  here  lie  found  an  honourable  interment  during  a  rapid 
reflux  of  popular  favour.  In  this  church,  too,  lies  Conradin  the  last 
prince  of  the  great  house  of  Suabia,  with  his  companion  in  arms  and 
in  death,  Frederic,  son  of  the  Margrave  of  Baden,  with  pretensions, 
through  his  mother,  to  the  Dukedom  of  Austria.  The  features  of  the 
mediaeval  building  have  long  since  been  obliterated  by  reconstructions 
of  the  17th  and  18th  centuries,  while  round  the  tomb  of  Conradin  a 
tissue  of  fictions  has  been  woven  by  the  piety  and  fondness  of  after 
times.  The  sceptics  of  modern  research  do  not,  however,  forbid  us 
to  believe  that  there  may  be  an  element  of  truth  in  the  beautiful  le- 
gend of  the  visit  and  benefactions  of  Elizabeth  Margaret  of  Bavaria, 
the  widowed  mother  of  Conradin,  erroneously  dignified  with  the  title 
of  Empress,  to  the  resting-place  of  her  son.  Her  statue  in  the  con- 
vent, with  a  purse  in  her  hand,  seems  to  attest  the  tale,  which  was  no 
doubt  related  to  the  Scottish  Poet,  and  may  well  have  stirred  his  fan- 
cy. What  the  epitaph  was  which  he  copied  we  cannot  now  deter- 
mine. It  is  not  pretended  that  the  unhappy  lady  was  buried  here, 
but  two  inscriptions  commemorate  the  ferocity  of  Charles  of  Anjou, 
and  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  which  befell  his  victims.  One,  be- 
lieved to  be  of  great  antiquity,  is  attached  to  a  cross  or  pillar  erected 
at  the  place  of  execution.  It  breathes  the  insolence  of  the  conqueror 
mingled  with  a  barbarous  humour  embodied  in  a  play  on  words — for 
"  Asturis  "  has  a  double  reference  to  the  kite  and  to  the  place  "  Astu- 
ra,"  at  which  the  fugitive  Princes  were  captured : 

"Asturis  uugue  Leo  Pullum  rapiens  Aquilinum 
Hie  deplumavit,  acephalumque  dedit." 

The  other  lines,  in  the  Church,  of  more  modern  date,  are  conceived  in 
a  humaner  spirit,  and  may  possibly  be  those  which  touched  the  heart 
of  the  old  worshipper  of  chivalry. 

Ossibvs  et  memoriae  Conradini  de  Stovffen,  vltimi  ex  sva  progenie  Sveviae  dvcis, 
Conradi  Rom.  Regis  F.  et  Friderici  n.  imp.  nepotis,  qui  cvm  Siciliae  et  Apvliae  regna 
exercitv  valido,  vti  hereditaria  vindicare  proposvisset,  a  Carolo  Andegavio  i.  hvivs 
nominis  rege  Franco  caeperani  in  agro  Palento  victvs  et  debellatvs  extitit,  deniqve 
captvs  cvm  Frederico  de  Asbvrgh  vltimo  ex  linea  Avstriae  dvce,  itineris,  ac  eivsdena 
fortvnae  sotio,  hie  cvm  aliis  (proh  scelvs)  a  victore  rege  secvri  percvssvs  est. 

Pivm  Neap,  coriariorvm  collegivm,  hvmanarvm  miseriarvm  memor,  loco  in  aedic- 
vlam  redacto,  illorvm  memoriam  ab  interitv  conservavit. 

(For  the  details  of  the  death  of  Conradin  and  the  stories  connect- 
ed with  his  memory  see  Summonte,  Storia  di  Napoli,  vol.  ii.  Celano, 
Notizie  di  Napoli  Giornata  Qitarta,  and  St.  Priest,  Histoire  de  la  Con- 
ijuete  de  Naples,  vol.  iii.) 


598  APPENDIX 


No.  V. 

"  MOTHER  GOOSE'S  TALES,"  p.  575.     The  following  note  by  a  distin- 
guished authority  on  Nursery  Tales,  will  be  read  with  interest. 

"  It  is  unfortunate  that  Sir  Walter  Scott  did  not  record  in  his  Di- 
ary the  dates  of  the  Neapolitan  collection  of  '  Mother  Goose's  Tales,' 
and  of  the  early  French  editions  with  which  he  was  acquainted.  He 
may  possibly  have  meant  Basile's  Lo  Cunto  de  li  cunti  (Naples,  1637- 
44  and  1645),  which  contains  some  stories  analogous  to  those  which 
Scott  mentions.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  France,  not 
Italy,  can  claim  the  shapes  of  Blue  Heard,  The  Sleeping  Beauty,  Puss 
in  Boots,  and  the  other  '  Tales  of  Mother  Goose,'  which  are  known 
best  in  England.  Other  forms  of  these  nursery  traditions  exist,  in- 
deed, not  only  in  Italian,  but  in  most  European  and  some  Asiatic  and 
African  languages.  But  their  classical  shape  in  literature  is  that  which 
Charles  Perrault  gave  them,  in  his  Conies  de  ma  Mere  F  Oie,  of  1697. 
Among  the  '  early  French  editions '  which  Sir  Walter  knew,  probably 
none  were  older  than  Dr.  Douce's  copy  of  1707,  now  in  the  Bodleian. 
The  British  Museum  has  no  early  copy.  There  was  an  example  of 
the  First  Edition  sold  in  the  Hamilton  sale :  another,  or  the  same,  in 
blue  morocco,  belonged  to  Charles  Nodier,  and  is  described  in  his  Me- 
langes. The  only  specimen  in  the  Public  Libraries  of  Paris  is  in  the 
Bibliotheque  Victor  Cousin.  It  is  probable  that  the  '  dumpy  duodec- 
imo' in  the  Neapolitan  dialect,  seen  by  Scott,  was  a  translation  of 
Perrault's  famous  little  work.  The  stories  in  it,  which  are  not  in  the 
early  French  editions,  may  be  UAdroite  Princesse,  by  a  lady  friend  of 
Perrault's,  and  Peau  d 'Ane  in  prose,  a  tale  which  Perrault  told  only 
in  verse.  These  found  their  way  into  French  and  Flemish  editions 
after  1707.  Our  earliest  English  translation  seems  to  be  that  of  1729, 
and  the  name  of  '  Mother  Goose '  does  not  appear  to  occur  in  English 
literature  before  that  date.  It  is  probably  a  translation  of  '  Ma  Mere 
1'Oie,'  who  gave  her  name  to  such  old  wives'  fables  in  France  long 
before  Perrault's  time,  as  the  spider,  Ananzi,  gives  his  name  to  the 
'  Nancy  Stories '  of  the  negroes  in  the  West  Indies.  Among  Scott's 
Century  of  Inventions,  unfulfilled  projects  for  literary  work,  few  are 
more  to  be  regretted  than  his  intended  study  of  the  origin  of  Popular 
Tales,  a  topic  no  longer  thought '  obnoxious  to  ridicule.' " — A.  L. 


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INDEX 


ABBEVILLE,  186,  196. 
Abbotsford  labourers,  100. 
Abercorn,  Lady,  572. 
Abercrombie,  Dr.,  102,  509,  537. 

Miss,  460  n. 

Abercromby,  James  (afterwards  Lord 
Dunfermline),  488  and  n. 

Lord,  16,  69,  146,  147,  275,  332, 

333,  355,  481. 

Aberdeen,  Lord,  316  w.,  481. 

Abud  &  Son,  bill-brokers,  London,  175, 
311,  312  seq.,  315  n.,  317,  327. 

Academy,  Edinburgh,  Examination,  275. 

Acland,  Sir  Thomas,  381,  385. 

Adam,  Right  Hon.  William,  Lord  Chief- 
Commissioner,  89,  132,  136,  212,  233, 
241,  320,  323  seq.,  332,  351,  361,  363, 
488,  508,  512,  514,  520;  sketch  of, 
54 ;  at  Abbotsford,  337  ;  Scott's  visits 
to  Blair-Adam,  140,  161,  265,  409-410, 
477,  494.  See  Blair-Adam. 

Admiral  Sir  Charles,  40,  89,  161, 

233,  241,  410,  477,  494. 

Sir  Frederick,  161  ;  on  Byron  and 

the  Greeks,  165,  461,  578,  587. 

John,  54  n. 

Adam's  class,  High  School,  Edinburgh, 

455. 

Addington,  Dr.,  397. 
Adolphus,  John,  385,  396. 
John  L.,  letters  to  Heber,  289  and 

n.,  290,  385,  454. 

Advocates'  Library,  plans,  78,  331. 
African  travellers,  109. 
Ainslie,  General,  363. 

Robert,  443. 

Ainsworth,  W.  H.,  179  and  n. 

Airaines,  196. 

Aitken,  John,  555. 

Albums,  suppression  of,  1. 

Alexander,  Emperor,  191,  306. 

Right  Hon.  Sir  W.,  Chief  Baron  of 

Exchequer,  383. 

Mrs.,  of  Ballochmyle,  389. 

Algiers,  consular  establishment  at,  363- 

364. 


Allan,  Thomas,  325. 

Sir  William,  P.R.A.,  30  and  »/.,  76, 

264,    289    seq.,    "Landing    of    Queen 

Mary,"  147. 
Allans,   the    Hay    (John    Sobieski    and 

Charles  Edward  Stuart),  470,  471  n. 
Alloway,  Lord,  319  «.,413. 
A/macks,  a  novel,  242. 
Alnwick   Castle,   visit  to,   305 ;  Abbey, 

305. 
Alvanley,  Lady,  127. 

Lord,  385. 

Anderson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  321. 

"  Andrea  de  Ferraras,"  570. 

Annandale  claim,  136. 

Anne  of  Geie)-sltw,  421,  435,  436,  449, 

450. 

Anstruther,  Philip,  266. 
Antiquarian   Society   of   Scotland,   323, 

465. 

Appleby  Castle,  177. 
Arbuthnot,  Sir  William,  60,  208,  436, 

463,  468. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.,  200  and  n.,  203,  390, 

392. 

Arden,  Misses,  385,  505. 
Argyle's  stone,  296. 
Argyll,  John,  Duke  of,  projected  life  of, 

451. 
Arkwright,  Mrs.,  304,  386,  388,  390,  391, 

393. 

Arniston,  old  oak  room  at,  336. 
Ashbourne,  374. 
Ashestiel  visited  in  1826,  108. 
Ash  ford  criminal  case,  202. 
Ashley,  Lord,  191. 

Mrs.,  578,  590. 

Ashworth,  Mr.,  291. 

Auchinrath,  418. 

Audubon,  John  James,  the  ornithologist, 

224  and  n.,  225,  231  n. 
Augmentation  cases  of  stipend,  500. 
Austen's,  Miss,  novels,  99,  298. 
Aylesbury,  377. 
Ayton,  Miss,  prima  donna  of  the  Italian 

Opera,  334. 


602 


INDEX 


BAILLIE,  CHARLES  (afterwards  Lord  Jer- 
viswoode),  331  n.,  610. 

Mrs.  Charles,  Mellerstain,  345. 

Joanna,  96,  198,  326,  380,  448  «., 

464  ».,  642  and  n. ;  tragedy  and  witch- 
craft, 279. 

Bainbridge,  George,  of  Liverpool,  123, 
152,  165,  220,  249,  250,  251,  255,  278, 
299,  309. 

"Balaam,"  119  and  n. 

Balcaskie  Manor-house,  266. 

Balfour  of  Balbirnie,  426. 

Charles,  515. 

Ballantyne  &  Co.,  34,  35 ;  stop  payment, 
52  ;  liabilities,  62  n.,  379. 

Alexander,  124,  282,  372,  443,  472, 

480 ;  skill  as  a  violinist,  261 ;  assumed 
as  a  partner,  429. 

James,  meeting  with  Cadell  and 

Constable,  9 ;  calls  at  Castle  Street, 
37 ;  dinner  and  guests,  38  ;  on  Scott's 
style,  47,  51,  52;  on  Devorgoil,  60; 
"  False  Delicacy,"  62 ;  Woodstock,  65  ; 
as  "Tom  Tell-truth,"  recollections  of 
Lord  of  the  Isles,  81 ;  Malachi,  82,  83  ; 
mottoes,  104 ;  opinion  of  Woodstock, 
108;  press  corrections,  112,  124; 
"  roars  of  chivalry,"  144;  opinion  on 
Napoleon,  166,  164;  illness,  168;  at 
Abbotsford,  172-173;  Napoleon,  244, 
260,  261 ;  on  Bride  of  Lammermoor 
and  Legend  of  Montrose,  268  n.;  pros- 
pect, 275;  The  Drovers,  279;  com- 
mercial disasters,  280  n. ;  Chronicles, 
281,  282,  328,  334,  347;  at  Abbots- 
ford,  282,  509-510  n. ;  the  copyrights, 
299 ;  criticism,  326  ;  Scott's  consider- 
ation for,  343  ;  on  "  Ossianic  "  charac- 
ter, 364,  378 ;  Scott's  handwriting, 
408 ;  wife's  illness  and  death,  427- 
428 ;  names  his  trustees,  430,  431, 
449,  450 ;  letter  from  Scott,  452,  453, 
480,  482 ;  visit  to  Prestonpans,  497  ; 
objects  to  a  new  epistle  from  Malachi, 
509  n. ;  approves  of  an  amanuensis, 
518;  a  motto  wanted,  519  M. 

Ballingray,  411,  496. 

Baluty  Mount,  565. 

Bankes,  William,  8  and  n.,  200,  202, 
388  n. 

Bank  of  Scotland,  434. 

Banking  Club  of  Scotland,  435. 

Bank-note  business,  93. 

Bannatyne  Club,  228,  229,  241,  325,  333, 
353,429,  481,  496. 

Bannatyne,  Oeorge,  Memorial  of,  332 
and  n. 

Sir  Wm.  M'Leod,  358. 


Barham,  The,  547  teq. 

Barnard  Castle,  403. 

Barranco,  680. 

Barrington,  Mrs.,  304. 

Barrow,  Sir  John,  14,  249,  556. 

Bathurst,  Earl,  236  «.,  307,  387. 

Lady,  200. 

Colonel  Seymour,  568,  5(59. 

Bauchland,  282. 

Bayes  in  the  Rehearsal,  133  and  n. 

Beacon  newspaper,  212  and  n. 

Beard's  Judgments,  327. 

Beauclerk,  Lady  Charlotte,  12. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Lover's  Prog- 
ress, 30. 

Beaumont,  Sir  George,  71 ;  anecdote  of, 
with  Wordsworth,  218;  death,  233- 
234. 

Beauvais  Cathedral,  186. 

Bedford,  Duke  and  Duchess  of,  323. 

Belhaven,  Lord  and  Lady,  361. 

Bell,  Mr.,  London,  386. 

Mr.,  422. 

George,  322,  430. 

Miss  E.,  of  Coldstream,  365  and  n. 

Miss  Jane,  of  North   Shields,  04, 

274. 

Belsches,  Miss  W.  (afterwards  Lady 
Forbes),  265,  310. 

Beresford,  Lord,  424. 

Admiral  Sir  John,  302  and  n. 


Berlingas,  559. 

Bernadotte,  252. 

Berri,  Duchess  of,  194. 

Bessborougb,  Lord,  307. 

Bethell,  Dr.,  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  305  n. 

Bevis  of  Hampton,  576. 

Big  bow-wow  strain,  40,  99. 

Binning,  Lord  and  Lady,  327,  332. 

Birmingham,  205. 

Bishop,  Dr.,  268. 

"  Bizarro,  death  of,"  587. 

Black,  A.  &  C.,  publishers,  344  «. 

Captain  R.  N.,  266. 

Dr.,  account  of  David  Hume's  last 

illness,  275. 

Black  Dwarf,  scene  of  the,  476  n. 

Black-fishing  Court  at  Selkirk,  509. 

Blackwood,  William,  and  Malachi,  82, 
83,  115,  144,  151. 

Blackwood's  Magazine,  449,  528  and  n. 

Blair,  Captain,  535. 

Sir  D.  Hunter,  428. 

Colonel,  and  Mrs.  Hunter,  426,  428, 

430. 

Blair -Adam,  161;  meetings  of  Blair- 
Adam  Club,  140,  265,  409  ;  12th  anni- 
versary, 477;  13tb,  494. 


INDEX 


G03 


Blakeney,  Mr.,  tutor  to  the  Duke  of  Buc- 
cleuch,  211. 

Blomfield,  Bishop,  17,  381. 

Bloomfield,  Lord,  270. 

Boaden's,  James,  the  Garrick  papers, 
330  n. 

Bonaparte.     See  Napoleon. 

Bonnechose,  Emile  de,  188. 

Bonnie  Dundee,  air  of,  40,  42,  43. 

Bonnington,  Mr.,  at  Kenilworth,  375  n. 

Bonnymoor  Conflict,  561. 

Booth'by,  Sir  William,  34. 

Borgo,  Count  Pozzo  di,  174,  187,  189, 
195. 

Borthwick  Castle,  335-336. 

Borthwicks  of  Crookston,  235,  259. 

Boswell,  Sir  Alexander,  duel  with  Stuart 
of  Dunearn,  38  and  n.,  426. 

James,  38  n. 

Bothwell  Castle,  400  n. 

Boufflers,  Madame  de,  196  and  »». 

Boulogne,  196. 

Bourgoin,  Mademoiselle,  a  French  ac- 
tress, 188. 

Bourmont,  General,  563. 

Boutourlin's  Moscow  Campaign,  208. 

Bouverie,  Mr.,  the  English  Commissioner, 
413. 

Boyd,  Mr.,  Broadmeadows,  158. 

Walter,  of  Boyd,  Beufield  &  Co., 

383,  384  and  n. 

Boyle,  Right  Hon.  David,  Lord  Justice- 
Clerk,  7  and  n.,  10  and  n.,  18,  38,  69, 
268,  355  and  «.,  424,  481. 

Brabazon,  Lady  Theodora,  322. 

Bradford,  Sir  Thomas,  173,  493. 

Brahan  Castle,  407  n. 

Brambletye  House,  179  and  n. 

Bran,  Scott's  deerhound,  518  and  n. 

Braxfield,  Lord,  18  n. 

Brewer's  Merry  Devil,  279  and  n. 

Brewster,  Dr.  (afterwards  Sir  David), 
and  Mrs.,  152  and  n.,  158,  273,  290, 
307,  308,  370,  444,  445,  455,  459,  517. 

Bride  of  Lammermoor,  letter  from  Will- 
iam Clerk,  472  n. 

Bridge,  Mr.,  the  jeweller,  389. 

Brinkley,  Dr.  John,  Bishop  of  Cloyne, 
465,  466  n. 

Brisbane,  Sir  Thomas  M.,  163  and  n., 
208,  278. 

Bristol  riots,  550  n.,  561  and  n. 

Brocque,  Monsieur,  of  Montpelier,  95. 

Brougham,  Lord,  408,  548. 

Brown,  Launcelot,  305. 

Misses,  of  George  Square,  Edin- 
burgh, 297,  322. 

Brown's  Selkirkshire  quoted,  232,  510  n. 


Brown's,    Mrs.,    lodgings,    5    St.   David 

Street,  123  and  n.,  147. 
Bruce,  Professor  John,  478  and  «. 

Tyndall,  478. 

Mr.,  from  Persia,  164. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  370. 

Brunei,  554. 

Brunton,  Rev.  Dr.,  112  n. 

Brydone,  Mrs.  (widow  of  Patrick   Bry- 

done),  40  and  n. 
Buccleuch,  fifth  duke  of,  70,  159,  174, 

214  «.,  219,  321,  338,  352,  390,  42o, 

421,  426,  525,  532,  548. 

Dowager  Duchess  of.    See  Montagu. 

Buchan,  Earl  of,  167,  215;  death  of,  453. 

Dr.  James,  9. 

Peter,  Peterhead,  289. 

Buchanan,  Hector  Macdonald,  4  n.,  21, 

136,  214,  235,  270,  320,  331,  363,  405. 

James  Macdonald,  406. 

Miss  Macdonald,  of  Drummakill,  3 

and  ».,  67,  224,  235. 

Major,  of  Cambusmore,  333,  355. 

Mr.,  Scott's  amanuensis,  500,  503. 

Buckingham,  Duchess  of,  181. 
Buckingham's  assassination,  555. 
Bugnie,  Signer,  325. 
Burchard,  Captain,  250. 
Burke,  Edmund,  390,  398. 

trial  of,  417  n.,  execution,  421,  423, 

435  ;  Patterson's  "  collection  of  anec- 
dotes," 447. 

Burleigh  House,  visit  to,  178. 
Burn,  Mr.,  architect,  325  and  n,  336,  540. 
Burnet,  George,  funeral  of,  500. 
Burney,   Dr.,  anecdote    regarding,   202, 

3 99 'and  n. 
Burns,  Col.  James  Glencairn,  545. 

Robert,  130,  181;  Scott's  admira- 
tion for,  211 ;  skill  in  patching  up  old 
Scotch  songs,  290. 

Tom,  Coal  Gas  Committee,  365. 

Burrell,  a  teacher  of  drawing,  88. 

Bury,  Lady  Charlotte  (Campbell),  181, 
465,  472. 

Butcher,  Professor,  72  n. 

Butler,  Lady  Eleanor,  374  n. 

Byers,  Colonel,  294. 

Byron,  Lord,  notes,  1 ;  memoirs,  6 ;  char- 
acteristics of,  7-9 ;  lunch  at  Long's  in 
1815,  39  ;  views  of  the  Greek  question, 
165;  Moore's  request  for  letters,  415, 
474 ;  allusion  to  early  attachment, 
474 ;  MSS.,  539. 

CAOELL,  FRANCIS,  498. 
Robert,  of  Constable  &  Co.,  meet- 
ing with  Ballantyne  and  Constable,  9  ; 


C04 


on  affairs  in  London,  12;  sympathy 
for  Scott,  37 ;  advice  to  Scott,  53  ;  es- 
trangement from  Constable,  55  -  56 ; 
the  sanctuary,  66,  69,  77,  142 ;  prom- 
ised the  Chronicles,  142,  162 ;  second 
instalment  on  Chronicles,  175  ;  eighth 
volume  of  Napoleon,  224  ;  Tales  of  a 
Grandfather,  263 ;  second  edition  of 
Napoleon,  274 ;  equally  responsible 
with  Constable  and  Ballantyne,  280 
n. ;  General  Gourgaud,  290 ;  copyright 
of  novels,  297 ;  Scott's  opinion  of,  299 ; 
visits  London,  315,  318;  copyright, 
318;  second  series  Chronicles,  319, 
323;  copyrights,  327 ;  dissatisfied  with 
the  Chronicles,  328,  329,  330;  plans 
for  acquiring  copyrights,  332;  their 
purchase,  334-335;  new  edition  of 
Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  338,  343,  345, 
346,  350 ;  the  Magnum,  352,  354 ;  pro- 
posals for  three  novels,  370;  third 
edition  of  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  370; 
plans  for  the  Magnum,  372,  378 ;  suc- 
cess of  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,  405,  406 ; 
trustee  for  Ballantyne,  430 ;  Hearth's 
letter,  431 ;  prospectus  of  Magnum  is- 
sued, 434 ;  Scott's  efforts  in  behalf  of, 
434  ;  and  reciprocation,  435  ;  opinion 
of  Anne  of  Geierstein,  436,  437,  454, 
460;  prospects  of  Magnum,  462,  464, 
468, 469 ;  in  treaty  for  Poetical  Works, 
470,  472 ;  Magnum,  473,  474, 477,  480, 
486  ;  a  faithful  pilot,  489  ;  twelfth  vol- 
ume of  Magnum,  491,  496 ;  Preston- 
pans,  497 ;  new  copyrights,  505,  507 ; 
at  Abbotsford,  509  n. ;  remonstrates 
against  a  new  Malachi,  512;  Scott's 
visit,  519 ;  copyrights,  526 ;  bad 
debts,  534,  646,  550,  560,  574,  576, 
585-586. 

Caesarias,  Sir  Ewain,  grave,  374. 

Calais,  186,  196. 

Cambridge  Master  of  Arts,  anecdote  of, 
408. 

"Cameria,"  590. 

Cameron  of  Lochiel,  284. 

Camilla,  a  novel,  399  n. 

Campbell  Airds,  363. 

Saddell,  363. 

Sir  Archibald,  of  Succoth,  9,  348. 

General,  of  Lochnell,  331. 

Sir  James,  of  Ardkinglas,  Memoirs, 

113n.,209. 

Colonel,  of  Blythswood,  295. 

Thomas,  at  Minto,  41 ;  character- 
ized, 141,  258 ;  in  great  distress,  386. 

Walter,  361. 

Canning,  George,  17,  175,  201,  203,  249, 


250,  258,  276,  311,  380;  his  death, 
286-287. 

Canterbury,  Archbishop  of  (Howley),  381 
and  n. ;  (Tait),  275  and  n. 

Capua,  589. 

Caradori,  Madam,  469,  472. 

Carlisle,  373-374,  404. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  379  n. 

Carmine  Church  of  Santa  Maria,  596- 
597. 

Carnarvon,  Lord,  279,  297. 

Carr,  Mr.  and  Misses,  448,  449. 

Carthage,  565. 

Caruana,  Don  F.  (Bishop  of  Malta),  570. 

Cashiobury,  400. 

Cassillis,  Ayrshire,  410. 

Castellamare,  579. 

Castle  Campbell,  410. 

Street,  "  Poor  39,"  77,  87-88,  100, 

142. 

Castlereagh.     See  Londonderry. 

Cathcart,  Captain,  428. 

Cauldshields,  149 ;  Loch,  158. 

Cay,  John,  14,  21. 

Cayley,  Sir  John,  327. 

Celtic  Society,  present  of  a  broadsword, 
61  ;  dinner,  349, 437. 

Ceuta,  562. 

Chalmers,  Dr.,  on  Waverly  Novels,  11 2- 
113  n. 

Chambers,  Robert  318,426. 

William,  325  n. 

Chantry,  Sir  Francis,  76,  390  n. ;  Scott 
sits  for  second  bust,  394,  397. 

Charlcote  Hall,  376. 

Charles  v.  and  Algiers,  563. 

Edward,  Prince,  and  the  '45  at  Cul- 

loden,  72-73,  584. 

Charpentier,  Madame  (Lady  Scott's  moth- 
er), 121. 

Chatham,  Lord,  397. 

Chaworth,  Mary,  550  and  n. 

Cheape,  Douglas,  212  and  n. 

George,  479,  495. 

Cheltenham,  205. 

Chessmen  from  Lewis,  652  and  n. 

Chevalier,  M.,  190. 

Chiefswood,  summer  residence  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Lockhart,  110, 156, 171,  289. 
452. 

Chiswick,  894. 

Christie,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  203. 

Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  first  series : 
commencement,  129;  progress,  138, 
139,  274,  298  n.,  313  n. ;  completion 
and  publication,  314  «.,  51-53  ;  second 
series,  in  progress,  816,  319,  325  ;  fin- 
ished in  April,  1828,  378  and  n. 


INDEX 


605 


Ckroniqttes  Nationales,  Jacques  de  La- 
lain,  81. 

Civic  Crown,  the,  7. 

Clan  Ranald,  the,  77. 

Clanronald's  story  of  Highland  credulity, 
321 

Clarence,  Duke  of,  171,  276. 

Clarendon's  collection  of  pictures,  400. 

Clarkson,  Dr.  James,  43,  249,  513. 

Dr.  Eben,  372  and  n.,  518. 

Cleasby,  Mr.,  446,  447. 

Cleghorn,  Hugh,  266  and  n. 

Clephane,  Mrs.  and  Miss  Maclean,  73, 
295,  492. 

Clerk,  Sir  George,  258. 

Miss  E.,  death  of,  52. 

Lieut.  James,  481. 

William,  prototype  of  Darsie  I/ili- 

tiier,  30,  40,  67,  79,  85,  89,  140,  144, 
145,  146,  214,  223,  233,  239,  241,  258 
264,  275,  322,  324,  340,  355,  360,  361, 
405,  406,  410,  413,  421,  424,  472,  477, 
481,  519  n. ;  sketch  of,  1;  chambers 
in  Rose  Court,  85 ;  as  a  draughtsman, 
88 ;  dinner  party,  240  ;  Gourgaud,  290, 
291,  294 ;  on  the  judges'  salaries,  464  ; 
letter  from,  472  n. 

Baron,  264,  413,  475. 

Clerk's,  John,  Naval  Tactics,  2  n. 

Clive,  Lord,  386,  393. 

Cloufert,  Bishop  of,  595-596. 

Club,  the,  86  n.,  500. 

Clunie,  Rev.  John,  336  and  n. 

Coal  Gas  Co.,  261,  262,  360,  365. 

Coalstoun  Pear,  461  and  n. 

Cochrane,  Mr.,  of  the  Foreign  Review, 
454. 

Cockburn,  Lord,  210;  the  poisoning  wom- 
an, 235  n.;  318,  417  n. 

Sir  George,  182;  his  journal,  184. 

Robert,  10. 

Cockenzie,  498. 

Codman,  Mr.,  of  Boston,  463. 

Cohen.     See  Palgrave. 

Coke  of  Norfolk.     See  Leicester. 

Col  burn,  Mr.  Henry,  and  the  Garrick  Pa- 
pers, 330;  Huntly  Gordon  and  the 
Religious  Discourses,  348. 

Coleridge,  Sir  John  Taylor,  14,  17  n. 

S.  T.,  382,  396  n.,  571  and  ».. 

Collyer,  tutor  to  Count  Davidoff,  10,  30, 
371. 

Colman,  Mr.,  330,  390. 

Colne,  the,  400. 

Colquhoun,  John  of  Killermont,  494. 

Commission  on  the  colleges  in  Scotland, 
168. 

Composition,  mode  of,  74, 


Compton,  Lady,  290  and  n..  294,  295. 

Conjuring  story,  550-551. 

Conradin,  572  and  n.,  597. 

Constable  &  Co.,  position  in  Nov.  1825,  6 ; 
bond  for  £5000  for  relief  of  H.  and 
R.,  20;  confidence  in  London  house, 
39 ;  the  origin  of  the  Magnum,  42 ; 
anxiety,  45,  47 ;  mysterious  letter 
from,  51;  H.  and  R.'s  dishonoured 
bill  for  £1000,  52 ;  the  consequences  of 
the  fall,  53 ;  Malachi,  83  ;  affairs,  62, 
69,  134,  248;  "Did  Constable  ruin 
Scott?"  280  n.  ;  creditors,  299,  331; 
debts,  463,  585. 

Archibald,  confidence  in  H.  and  R., 

9,  38 ;  in  London,  51 ;  interview  with 
Scott  on  Jan.  24th,  1826,  58  ;  and  on 
Feb.  6th,  68  ;  and  on  March  14th,  99  ; 
power  of  gauging  the  value  of  literary 
property,  175  n. ;  death,  280. 
George,  476  n.,  497. 


Constable's  Miscellany,  dedication  to 
George  iv.,  38  n. 

Contemporary  Club,  147. 

Conversation,  English,  Scotch,  and  Irish, 
2,  161. 

Conyngham,  Lady,  182. 

Cooper,  J.  Fenimore,  The  Pilot,  at  the 
Adelphi,  London,  183;  meets  Scott  at 
Paris,  193 ;  publishing  in  America, 
193,  194,  195 ;  letter  to  Scott,  345  «. ; 
Scott  reads  Red  Rover,  346  ;  and  Prai- 
rie, 349,  387 ;  Mme.  MirbePs  portrait 
of  Scott,  442  n.  - 

Mr.,  an  actor,  263. 

Copyrights  of  Waverley  Novels,  purchase 
of,  328,  329,  331,  332 ;  bought,  334. 

Corby  Castle,  374. 

Corder's  trial,  496. 

Corehouse,  295,  296. 

Cork,  freedom  of,  to  Scott,  44. 

Cornwall,  Barry.     See  Procter. 

Corri,  Natili,  406  and  n. 

Coulter,  Provost,  111  and  n. 

Count  Robert  of  Paris,  origin  of,  81 ; 
condemned  by  Cadell  and  Ballantyne, 
541. 

Court  of  Sessions,  new  regulations,  135. 

Coutts,  Mrs.,  afterwards  Duchess  of  St. 
Albans,  12,  13,  58,  182;  letter  from, 
272  n.  i 

Covenanters,  Scott  and  the,  540  n. 

Cowan,  Alexander,  62,  63,  330,  429,  534. 
Chas.,  Reminiscences,  555  n. 


Cowdenknowes,  visit  to,  172. 

Cowper,  Mr.,  587. 

Crabbe,  Mr.,  218,  380  n. 

Craig,  Sir  James  Gibson,  280  n.,  319  n. 


606 


INDEX 


Craigcrook,  466. 

Cramond  Brig,  240. 

Crampton,  Sir  Philip,  158  n. 

Cranstoun,  George,  Lord  Corehouse,  Dean 
of  Faculty,  134  and  n.,  145,  233,  241 ; 
Scott's  visit  to  Corehouse,  295,  359 ; 
Maude  v.  Maule,  416. 

Henry,  155  and  n.,  249,  443. 

Craven,  Mr.  Keppel,  576. 

Crighton,  Tom,  160. 

Cringletie,  Lord.     See  Murray,  J.  W. 

Crocket,  Major,  238. 

Croker,  Crofton,  182,  185. 

J.  Wilson,  17,  102,  202,  251,  382, 

384,  388,  422,  442,  443,  475  n.,  549 ; 
on  Malachi,  102,  106 ;  Duke  of  Clar- 
ence, 171,  198,  200 ;  dinner  at  the  Ad- 
miralty, 201. 

Culross,  excursion  to,  494,  495. 

Cumberland,  Richard,  85. 

Cumnor  Hall,  423. 

Cunliffe,  Mr.,  379. 

Cunningham,  Allan,  182, 185,  388  n.,  395, 
397,  400;  Scott's  opinion  of,  200. 

Curie,  James,  Melrose,  45,  127. 

Mrs.,  funeral  at  Kelso,  49. 

Cutler,  Sir  John,  46. 

DAILY  ROUTINE,  523,  528. 

Dalgleish,  Sir  Walter's  butler,  43,  85. 

Dalhousie,  George,  ninth  Earl  of,  sketch 

of, 336;  Bannatyne  Club,  429, 444,445  ; 

public  dinner  to,  463. 
Dalkeith  House,  pictures  at,  325 ;   visit 

to,  419. 

Dallas,  Mr.,  419. 
Dalrymple,  David,  Westhall,  497  and  n. 

Sir  John,  258,  327,  428. 

Lady  Hew  Hamilton,  174. 

Dandie  Dinmont  terriers,  107  ;   Ginger, 

379 ;  Spice,  529. 
Danvers,  by  Hook,  278  n. 
D'Arblay,  Madame,  202,  399. 
D'Arcon,  Chevalier,  561  n. 
"  Darsie  Latimer."     See  Clerk,  W. 
Dasent,  Sir  George,  447  n. 
Dauphine,  Madame  la,  194. 
Daveis,  Chas.  S.,  498  and  n.,  499. 
Davidoff,  Count,   10,  30,  42,   138,  143; 

289,  292,  319,  325,  331,  371,  471  n. 

Denis,  the  Black  Captain,  113,  319. 

Davidson,  Prof.,  of  Glasgow,  481. 

Davis,  Mrs.,  396. 

Davy,  Lady,  380,  382,  393,  533 ;  Sketch 

of,  68,  69  and  n. 
Dawson,  Captain,  419,  566. 
Dead  friends  to  be  spoken  of,  126. 
"  Death  of  Hector !"  308, 


Dee,  Dr.,  651. 

Defoe,  criticism,  253  «.,  255. 
Delicteriis,  Chevalier,  575,  576. 
Demonology,  The,  488,  492. 
Dempster,  Geo.,  of  Duunichen,  442. 
George  and  Mrs.,  of  Skibo,  259  and 

n.,  439  and  ».,  442. 
Dependants  at  Abbotsford,  346  n. 
D'Escars,  Duchess,  184. 
Descendants  of  Scott,  599,  600. 
De  Fere,  273. 

Devonshire,  Duke  of,  195,  393,  394. 
Diary,  custom  of  keeping,  341. 
Dibdin,  Dr.,  385. 

Dickinson,  John,  of  Nash  Mill,  294,  491. 
Disraeli,  Benjamin,  14,  15  ;  Vivian  Grey, 

264. 

Distance  !  what  a  Magician  !  111. 
Dividends,  declarations  of,  325. 
Dixon's  Gairloch,  322  n'. 
Dobie,  Mr.,  358. 

Dogs  take  a  hare  on  Sunday,  173. 
Don,  Dowager  Lady,  62. 

Sir  Alexander,  41,  74  ;    sketch  of, 


113  ;  death,  114;  funeral,  116. 
Doom  of  Devorgoil,  59,  60  n.,405  ?/.,  -l.V». 
Douglas,  Archibald,  first  Lord,  18  and  n. 

second  Lord,  418  and  n. 

Captain,  R.N.,  418. 

Charles,  159,  204. 

David,  Lord  Reston,  84. 

Dr.  James,  of  Kelso,  301. 

Sir  John  Scott,  114,  115. 

Hon.  Thos.     See  Selkirk. 


193. 


Doiister swivel,  a,  144. 

Dover,  Baron,  394  and  n. 

Dover  Cliff,  197. 

Dragut's  Point,  567  and  n. 

Drumlanrig,  visit  to,  158, 160. 

Drummond,  Mrs.,  of  Auteuil,  191, 

Hay.     See  Hay. 

Dryburgh  Abbev,  340  n. 

Dudley,  Lord,  198,  324  «.,  379,  553. 

Dumergue,  Charles,  384,  395. 

Miss,  181,  185,  378. 

Duncan,  Captain  Henry,  548,  553. 

Dundas,  Henry,  32,  442. 

Robert,  of  Arniston,  38,  212,  261, 

322,  335,  337,  439,  441,  531. 

Sir  Robert,  of  Beechwood,  4  ami  n, 

16,  94,  95,  132,  262,  356, 421,  422,  437, 
459,  460,  461,489. 

William,  the  Right  Hon.,  Lord  Reg- 
ister, 307,  322,  335,  429. 

Sir  Lawrence,  219. 

Hon.  Robert,  son  of  second  Lord 

Melville,  171. 

Robert,  Adam,  170,  335. 


INDEX 


607 


Dunfermline,  Lord.     See  Abercromby. 

Duras,  Mr.,  194. 

Durham,  Bishop  of.     See  Van  Mildert. 

Baronial  Hall,  302. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  of  Calderwood,  335. 

Duty,  108,  114,  127,  132,  133,  153,  154, 
155,  156,  170,  173,  245,  248,  268,  271. 

ECKFORD,  JOHN,  400,  443. 

"Economics,"  13. 

Edgcumbe,  Hon.  Mrs.  George,  394  u. 

Edgewell  Tree,  461  and  n. 

Edgeworth,  Henry  King,  284. 

Miss,  154,  2*80  n. 

Edinburgh  Academy,  discussion  on  flog- 
ging, 211 ;  pronunciation  of  Latin,  2  25, 
226. 

Life  Assurance  Company,  32. 

Review,  editorship  of,  467  and  n. 

Edmonstoune,  James,  481. 

Edwards,  Mr.,  354,  355. 

Elcho,  Lord,  and  Prince  Charles-Edward, 
72,  73. 

Eldiu,  Lord,  228. 

Elections  expenses,  178,  304. 

Elgin,  Lord,  419,  534;  imprisonment  in 
France,  96,  209. 

Elibank,  Lord,  on  English  and  Scotch 
lawyers,  98,  99. 

Elizabeth  de  Bruce,  224,  226. 

Elliot,  Sir  Gilbert,  320. 

Sir  William,  of  Stobbs,  114,  115. 

Lady  Anna  Maria,  85  and  n.,  155 

and  «.,  291,  308,  476. 

Ellis,  Lady  Georgiaua,  394,  395. 

Mr.  Agar.     See  Dover. 

Charles,  Lord  Seaford,  18,  191,  299 

and  n. 

George,  161,  286,  341. 

Mrs.  George,  337,  341. 

Colonel,  337. 

Rev.  William,  missionary  to  Mada- 
gascar, 477. 

Elphinstone,  Mountstuart,  173. 

Sir  R.  H.  D.,  472  n. 

Emus,  278. 

"  Epicurean  pleasure,"  7. 

Erdody,  Count,  547. 

Erskine,  Lord,  189,  453. 

David,  of  Cardross,  363. 

Henry,  453. 

William,  Lord  Kinnedder,  40  n.,  50, 

60  n,  384 ;  destruction  of  Scott's  let- 
ters, 548. 

the  Misses,  269,  347,  419,  535,  536. 

H.  David,  454. 

Essay  on  Highlands,  270,  273. 

Essex,  Earl  of,  400. 


Euthanasia,  instances  of :  Dr.  Black,  Tom 

Purdie,  547. 
Evelina,  399. 
Exeter,  178. 

Exhibition  of  pictures,  353,  360. 
Expenses,  346. 

Fair  Maid  of  Perth  commenced,  316,331; 
progress,  355  ;  publication,378  n.\  suc- 
cess of,  405. 

Falkland  Palace,  478. 

Fancy  Ball,  363,  364. 

Fauconpret,  M.,  298. 

Featherstone,  Mr.,  230. 

Felix,  Colonel,  550,  551. 

Fellenburg,  E.  de,  493  and  n. 

Ferguson,  Prof.  Adam,  449,  513. 

Sir  Adam,  30,  122,  216,  217,  220, 


233,  238,  239,  273,  307,  308,  309,  310, 
312,  313,  413,  424,  444,  472  n.,  481, 
483,  484  «.,  492,  494,  495,  497,  511, 
522 ;  Bonnie  Dundee,  43,  45 ;  New 
Year's  Day  dinner,  47;  fall  from  horse, 
236;  dinner  at  W.  Clerk's,  240,  241; 
tour  in  Fife,  264,  265  ;  at  Blair- Adam, 
477. 

—  Colonel,  106,   108,  112,  121,    122, 
149,  155,  157,  164,  165,  170,  173,  233, 
245,  253,  254,  256,  277,  293,  297,  326, 
366,  379,  429,  447,  454,  459,  474,  483, 
510,522;  Hogmanay  dinner,  45 ;  notes 
about   Indian    affairs,  298,  308,  309; 
meet  of  the  hounds  at  Melrose,  310. 

—  Captain  John,  245,  256,  338,  344, 
431,  510;  return  from  Spanish  Main, 
244 ;  dines  at  Abbotsford,  298. 

—  Miss  Isabell,  death,  510,  511. 
Miss  Margaret,  45,  104  and  n.,  173, 


421,  459. 

Miss  Mary,  45 ;  deatli  of,  420,  421. 

the  Misses,  32,  45,  104. 

James,  235,  452,  481. 

Fergusson,  Sir  James,  91. 

Dr.,  385. 

Ferrars  of  Tamworth,  374. 

Ferrier,  James,  65  n. ,  223  and  n. ;  death 

of,  419,  429. 

Miss,  499  ;  visit  to  Abbotsford,  541. 

Ferronays,  Miss  De  la,  578. 

Feversham,  Lord  (Duncombe),  302. 

Fiddle  or  Fiddle-stick,  99. 

Fielding's  farce,  Tumble-down  Dick,  7"i  n. 

Fine  Arts,  poetry  and  painting,  75,  76. 

Fitzgerald,  Vesey,  200. 

Fitz-James,  Duke  of,  194. 

Flahault,  Count  de,  190. 

Fletcher,  Rev.  Mr.,  477. 

Fleurs,  291. 


608 


Floddenfield,  300. 

Foley,  Sir  Thomas,  554. 

Foote,  Miss,  269. 

Foote's  Cozeners,  389. 

Forbes,  Viscount,  saved  by  his  dog,  11. 

Baron,  463,  464,  500. 

Hon.  John,  552. 

Captain,  557. 

Sir  John,  24. 

John  Hay.     See  Lord  Medwyn. 

Sir  William,  offers   of   assistance, 

54  and  «.;  sketch  of,  61,  315,  363. 

George,  260,  430. 

William,  of  Medwyn,  446  and  n., 


447. 

Foreigners  at  Abbotsford,  9,  167. 
Forest  Club,  Scott  dines  with,  309. 
Fortune,  a  mechanist,  520  and  n. 
Foscolo,  Ugo,  sketched,  10. 
Fouche,  Baron,  191. 
Fox,  Charles  J.,  anecdote  of,  389,  390. 
Foy's  book,  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 

303,  304. 

Francklin,  Colonel,  477. 
Frankenstein,  112  n.;  dramatised,  263. 
Franks,  Mr.,  95. 
Freeling,  Sir  Francis,  384. 
French  Press,  censors  of  the,  309. 
Frere,  J.  Hookham,  569  and  n.,  570,  571. 
Fuller,  John,  M.P.  for  Surrey,  390  and  n. 
Funerals,  dislike  to,  111,  116. 
Fushie  Bridge  Inn,  314  and  n. 
Future  Life,  speculations  on,  28-30. 

GAETA,  590. 

Galashiels,  511. 

'Galignani,  Mr.,  Paris,  187,  188  n. ;  offer 

for  Napoleon,  195. 
Galitzin,  Princess,   192,   193,   196,  285, 

442  and  n. 

Gallois,  M.,  187  and  n.,  189,  190,  194. 
Gait's  Omen,  84  n.,  132,  139;  Spaewife, 

484 ;  Lawrie  Todd,  502. 
Gardening,  ornamental,  essay  on,  for  the 

Quarterly,  316. 
Garrick,  David,  Private   correspondence 

of,  162,  330  n. 

Mrs.,  anecdote  of,  138  n.,  552,  553. 

Garstang,  374. 

Gattonside,  155  and  n. 

Gell,  Sir  William,  572  n.,  573,  575  n., 

576,  578,  580,  582,  583,  590. 
Genie  and  author,  a  Dialogue,  440,  441. 
George  n.,  anecdote  of,  391,  392. 

in.,  anecdote  of,  307. 

IT.,  Scott  at  Windsor,  182;   Scott 

dines  with,  391 ;  statue,  462 ;  death, 

498. 


George,  Prince,  of  Cumberland,  395. 

Gibraltar,  560,  562. 

Gibson,  John,  jr.,  W.  S.,  52  and  n., ;  cred- 
itors agree  to  private  trust,  61  ;  meet- 
ing with  Scott,  Cowan,  and  Ballantync, 
62,  63 ;  creditors'  approval,  66 ;  lends 
Scott  £240,  68,  79 ;  Constable's  affairs, 
106;  Constable's  claims,  132,  134; 
sale  of  39  Castle  Street,  142,  162, 174 ; 
Miss  Hume's  trust,  226,  240;  Scott's 
travelling  expenses,  258,  259,  294,  299 ; 
Lord  Newton's  decision,  311;  Abud 
&  Son,  311,  314,  315,  317,  318;  value 
of  the  Waverley  copyrights,  318,  335; 
St.  Ronarfs  Well,  343 ;  Coal  Gas  Co., 
360,  365  ;  plans  for  the  Magnum,  372, 
405,  431,  446 ;  preparations  for  a  sec- 
ond dividend,  496,  499,  546. 

Gifford, William,  17 ;  funeral  of,  222,  223. 

Baron,  135  and  n.  ' 

Lady,  548. 


Giggleswick  School,  captain  of,  28. 

Gilbert,  Dr.  Davies,  388. 

John  Graham,  416  and  n.,  410, 121, 

423,  473. 

Gillespie,  trial  of,  and  sentence,  319  and  n. 

Gillian,  the  clan,  308. 

Gillies,  Lord,  146. 

Robert  Pierce,  146,  247,  254  and  »., 

255,  284,  327,  342,  345,  368,  381,  450, 
452,  454,  473;  characterisation  of,  21 
and  n.,  22  and  n. ;  difficulties,  33 ; 
Scott  offers  Chiefswood,  33 ;  in  extrem- 
ity, 35 ;  writes  a  satire,  143 ;  a  cool 
request,  171, 175  ;  Foreign  Review,  170. 

Gilly,  Rev.  William  Stephen,  277  and  n., 
302. 

Gipsies  of  the  Border,  314  n. 

Glasgow,  visit  to,  in   September,   1827, 
295. 

Glengarry's  death,  347. 

Glenorchy,  Lady,  393. 

Gloucester,  Bishop  of  (Dr.  Bethell),  305 
and  n. 

Goderich,  Lord,  294,  301  n.,  335  and  it. 

Godwin,  William,  380,  393. 

Goethe,  letters  from,  234  and  n.,  379  »<., 
592,  593. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  391. 

Gooch,  Dr.  Robert,  99,  184,  481. 

Gordon,    Alexander,   fourth    Duke 
323  n. 

Duke  and  Duchess,  465. 

Lady  Georgiana,  323  and  n. 

J.  Watson,  353,  536  and  n. 

Sir  Wm.  Cumming,  471  ». 


of, 


Major  Pryse,  Personal  Memoirs,  284 

and  n. 


INDEX 


609 


Gordon,  George   Huntly,  amanuensis,  45 

and  n.,  51,  63  and  «.,  96,  221, 284,  286, 

288  ;  sermons,  332,  348  and  n.,  361. 
Gourgaud,  General,  195  n.,  260,  290  and 

«.,  294,  297,  298,  307,  309,  313. 
Gower,  Lord  Francis  Leveson,  Poetry,  9 

and  n. ;  Tale  of  the  Mill,  232,  297,  380, 

386,  388,  395. 
Lady  Frances  Leveson,  386  and  n., 

391,  393,  395. 
Graeme,  Robert,  258. 
Graham,  Sir  James,  555,  556. 

John.     See  Gilbert. 

Lord  William,  643. 

of  Clavers,  322. 

Miss  Stirling,  324,  365,  461 ;  Mys- 
tifications, 365  and  n. 
Graham's  Island,  565. 
Grahame  of  Airth,  98. 
Grange,  Lady,  4^19. 
Grant,  Sir  Francis,  230  and  n. ;   sketch 

of,    529,   530 ;    portrait    with    armor, 

531. 
Grant,  Sir  Willam,  391  and  n. 

Mrs.,  of  Laggan,  19,  27  and  «.,  542. 

Granville,  Lord  and  Lady,  189,  190,  191, 

193,  195. 

Gray,  Lord  and  Lady,  268. 
Greenshields,  John,  418  and  n.,  419. 
Grenville,  Right  Hon.  Thomas,  199  and 

n.,  397. 
Greville,  Lady  Charlotte,  390. 

Charles,  386  n. 

Grey,  Lord,  335. 

Grey  Mare's  Tail,  161. 

Griffin's  Tales  of  the  Munster  Festivals, 

368  and  n.,  458  and  n. 
Grosvenor,  Lord,  400. 
Grove,  The:    Clarendon's   pictures,   400 

and  n. 
Guise's,  Duke  of,  Expedition, — review  of, 

in  foreign  Quarterly,  93  and  n. 
Gurney,  Mr.,  396. 
Guthrie's  Memoirs,  345  n. 
Guyzard,  M.,  267  and  n. 
Gwydyr,  Lord,  203. 

HADDINGTON,  LORD,  426,  447. 

Haigs  of  Bemerside,  168  n.,  255,  290,  309, 

407. 

Hailes,  Lord,  438,  448 
Haliburton,  David,  149,  151,  399. 
Hall,  Captain  Basil,  96,  155  n.,  208,  224, 

426,  463,  474,  476  n.,  536,  554,  556. 

Sir  James,  226. 

Halliday,  Sir  A.,  461. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  19,  293,  427. 

Lady  Charlotte,  396. 

39 


Hamilton,  Robert,    132,    235,    241,  322, 
361,  413,  460,  461,  497. 

Captain  Thomas,  and  Mrs.,  143  and 


n.,  150,  155,  158,  171,  278,  289,  293, 
309,  331,  474,  475,  485;  Cyril  Tlwni- 
ton,  256. 

Bailie,  418. 

Hampden,  Lady  (nee  Brown),  297,  322. 

Hampton  Court,  162,  398  and  n. 

Handley,  G.,  104,  121,  201. 

Harper,  Mr.,  gift  of  emus,  278. 

Harris,  Mr.,  456. 

Harrison,  Colonel,  384,  385. 

Harrowby,  Lord,  335. 

Hartshorne's  Ancient  Metrical  Tales,  429 
and  •//.. 

Haslewood,  Mr.,  300. 

Haunted  Glen  in  Laggan,  542. 

Hawthorne,  N.,  on  the  English,  499  n. 

Hay,  Mr.,  Under-Secretary  of  State,  198. 

E.  W.  Auriol  Drummond,  1 66  and  n., 

366,  367,  421,  426,  428,  430,  433,  465, 
559. 

Sir  John,  28,  231,  362,  431 ;  Bank- 
ing Club  dinner,  435  ;  meeting  of  the- 
atre trust,  468. 

Robert,  Colonial  Office,  185. 


Haydon,  B.,  271,  387  and  «.,  487. 

Heath,  Charles,  engraver,  351,  361,  383, 
431,  491. 

Heber,  Reginald,  204 ;  Journal,  438  and  n. 

Richard,  14. 

Hedgeley  Moor,  306. 

Hemans,  Mrs.,  483,  484,  485. 

Henderson,  Mr.,  Eildon  Hall,  his  funeral, 
360. 

Henry's  History  of  England,  426. 

Hermitage  Castle,  sketch  of,  88. 

Herries,  Mr.,  293. 

Hertford,  Lord,  251. 

Hertfordshire  lanes,  400. 

Highland  credulity,  321. 

"Highland  Society,"  and  Miss  Stirling 
Graham's  Bees,  460,  461. 

Highland  Piper,  134. 

Hill,  Right  Hon.  Mr.,  571  and  n. 

Hinves,  David,  396  and  n. 

History  of  Scotland,  in  the  Cabinet  Cy- 
clopedia, 458  and  n. 

Hobhouse,  John  Cam,  and  Moore,  6,  8. 

Hodgson,  Dr.  F.,  204. 

Hoffmann's  Novels,  reviewed  for  Foreign 
Quarterly,  255,  284. 

Hogarth,  George,  52,  282,  400. 

Hogg,  James,  breakfasts  with  Scott,  30, 
31 ;  in  difficulties,  78,  124,  224  n.  • 
loses  his  farm,  230  ;  Royal  Literary 
Society,  256,  296  and  n. ;  his  affair 


INDEX 


of  honour,  300  «.,  338,  397  n. ;  Six- 
Foot  Club,  434  n. ;  the  Nodes  Ambro- 
siance,  528 ;  Scott's  interest  in  him, 
528  n. 

Robert,  261  and  n. 

Hogmanay  dinner  at  Abbotsford,  45. 

Holland,  Lady,  394. 

Dr.,  185  and  n. 

Holyrood,  an  asylum  for  civil  debtors, 
313  and  n. 

Home,  Earl  and  Countess  of,  138  «.,  159 
and  n. 

John,  315  ;  his  Works  reviewed,  243 

and  n.,  251. 

Hone's  Every  Day  Book,  500. 

Hood,  Sir  Samuel,  407  n. 

Hook,  Theodore,  198 ;  John  Bull,  198  n. ; 
Sayings  and  Doings,  357,  382  7*. 

Hoole's  Tasso,  133. 

Hope,  General,  the  Hon.  Sir  Alexander, 
297  «. 

Right  Hon.  Charles,  18,  38  and  n., 

351  and  n.,  459  and  n. 

Dr.,  293,  413. 

James,  W.  S.,  9,  293  and  n. 

John,  Solicitor -General  for  Scot- 
land, 34,  87,  233,  267,  327,  420,  436, 
464  ;  chairman  to  Lockhart's  parting 
entertainment,  22 ;  characterised,  32 
and  n. 

Sir  John  and  Lady,  of  Pinkie,  10, 

53,461,465;  dinner  at  Pinkie,  351 ; 
"Roman"  antiquities,  351. 

Lady  Charlotte,  38. 

Hopetoun,  Earl  of,  267. 

Countess  of,  436,  437,  472. 

Home,  Donald,  349. 

Homer,  Leonard,  225  and  n. 

Horton,  Wilmot,  182,  184  and  n.,  185, 
384. 

Hotham,  Lady,  569. 

House  of  Aspen,  431. 

Howden,  Mr.,  90. 

factor  for  Falkland,  478. 

Howley,  Archbp.     See  Canterbury. 

How  to  make  a  critic,  44. 

Hughes,  Dr.  and  Mrs.,  67,  181,  184  and 
«.,  393,  420. 

John,  204. 

Mr.,  printer,  430. 

Hulne,  Carmelite  monastery  of,  305,  306. 

Hume,  Baron,  223,  232,  262,  275,  331, 
408,  428  and  n.,  468. 

David,  burial-place,  59;  deathbed, 

275  and  n.  ;  Works  of,  374. 

Lady  Charlotte.  See  Lady  C.  Ham- 
ilton. 

Sir  John,  of  Cowdenknowes,  172. 


Hume,  Miss,  226. 

Joseph,  M.P.,  103,  198. 

Mrs.,  Warwick  Castle,  375  and  n. 

Hunt,  Leigh,  The  Liberal,  8  and  w.,  352; 

"  anecdotes   of   Byron,"  359 ;    Byron 

363. 

Mr.,  English  traveller,  mur- 


dered, 581. 
Hurst  and  Robinson,  6  and  n.,  13,  35,  52, 

60,  314  n.,  334,  335. 
Huskisson,  Hon.  W.,M.P.,  175,  201,203, 

384. 

Hutchinson,  Mr.,  361. 
Huxley,  Colonel,  263. 

IMAGINATION,  WAND  OF,  44. 

"Imitators,"  179-181. 

Immortality  of  the  soul,  28-31. 

Impey,    Mr.  and  Mrs.,  161,  162,  165. 

Inchmahome,  411. 

Inglis,  Dr.,  226,  365. 

Sir  R.  H.,  Bart.,  185,  381,  386,  548. 

Innes,  Mr.  Gilbert,  468. 

Invernahyle.     See  Stewart. 

Ireland,  Mr.,  462. 

Irish  Tour,  1. 

Anecdotes,  wit,  good -humour,  ab- 
surdity, 3,  4. 

Irving,  Rev.  Edward,  386,  463  and  n., 
464. 

Mr.  (Lord  Newton),  162. 

John,  424. 

Washington,  376. 

Itterburg,  Count,  ex -Crown  Prince  of 
Sweden,  252  and  n. 

Ivanhoe  dramatised,  189  and  n.,  475, 476. 

JACOB, WILLIAM,  380  and  n. 

James,  G.P.R.,  letter  from,  460  n.,  515 
and  n. 

Jamieson,  Dr.  John,  150  and  w.,  151,429, 

Jardine,  Sir  Henry,  53,  233,  475. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  218. 

Jeanie  Deans.     See  Walker,  Helen. 

Jedburgh  election,  122,  543. 

Jeffrey,  Lord,  237,  262,  408,  467;  ad- 
dress on  the  combination  of  workmen, 
11  and  n.,  210;  on  Wordsworth,  217; 
dinner  and  guests,  230;  the  poisoning 
woman,  236. 

Jekyll,  J.,  380. 

Jerviswoode,  Lord.     See  Baillie. 

Jobson,  Mrs.,  157, 165,  206,  207,  223, 259, 
260,  315. 

Johnson,Dr.,  390,  391,399,423,  439,441, 
443,  456  ;  Evelina,  202 ;  epitaph  on  C. 
Phillips,  282. 

Johnstone-Alva,  511,  526,  534. 


INDEX 


Johustone,  Mr.  Hope,  161. 

Mrs.  J.,  224  and  n. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  of  Bordeaux,  481. 

the  Border  family,  136. 

Jollie,  James,  trustee,  52  ».,  62,  144. 
Jones,  Mr.,  197. 

Miss,  361. 

Journal,  reflections,  1,  20,  21  ;  begins  to 
tire,  309 ;  Johnson's  advice,  443,  456. 

Kain  and  Carriages,  89,  90  and  «. 
Katrine,  Loch,  scenery  of,  333  and  n. 
Keeldar,  people  of,  306. 
Keepsake,  The,  328  n.,  350,  361,  383,  431. 
Keith,  Sir  Alex.,  321. 

William,  19. 

Mrs.  Murray,  The  HigMand  Widow, 

129. 

Kelly's  Reminiscences  reviewed,  121. 
Kelso,  visit  to,  291. 
Kemble,  Charles,  364. 
—  Stephen,  304. 

Fanny,  493,  497. 

Kendal,  205. 

Kenihvorth,  visit  to,  375  and  n. 

Kennedy,  Rt.  Hon.  F.,  of  Dunure,  279 

and  n.,  496. 
Kent,  Duchess  of,  395. 
Kerr,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles,  of  Abbotrule, 

371,  493. 

Lord  and  Lady  Robert,  10. 

the  Misses,  285,  318,  325,  335,  338, 

342,  420,  464,  490. 

of  Kippielaw,  168,  177,  220. 

Kinloch,  George,  of  Kinloch,  on  Malachi, 

146. 

Kinloch's  Scottish  Ballads,  241  and  H. 
Kinnaird,  Douglas,  393. 
Kinnear,  Mr.,  60,  362,  442. 
Kinnedder,  Lord.     See  Erskiue. 
Kinniburgh,  R.,  168,  169. 
Kirn  Supper,  310  and  n, 
Knight,  Charles,  375  n. 

J.  Prescott,  48,  50,  54  and  n. 

Gaily,  386. 

Payne,  367. 

Knighton,  Sir  William,  91   and   n.,  181 

and  n.,  199,  319,  388,481  n. ;  letter  on 

Constable's  Miscellany,  24 ;  dedication 

of  Magnum,  391. 
Knox,  Dr.  Robert,  416,  417  and  n.,  421, 

447. 

William,  a  young  poet,  26,  285. 

Kubla-Khan  and  Hastings,  48. 

LAIDLAW,  JAMES,  173. 

William,  149,   173,   189,  218,  250, 

255,  398,  433,  434 ;    Scott's  letter  to, 


61  n. ;  summoned  to  town,  66,  70,  and 
n. ;  death  and  funeral  of  child,  110;  on 
sale  of  Napoleon,  272  n. ;  adventure 
in  Gladdies  Wiel,  397  n. ;  a  walk  with 
Scott,  459 ;  Tom  Purdie's  death,  485 ; 
as  amanuensis,  514,  516,  517, 521,  522, 
523,  524 ;  opinion  on  Scott's  Essay  ou 
Reform  Bill,  525,  527,  528 ;  at  Count 
Robert,  533;  smites  the  Rock,  596; 
Scott's  illness,  544,  585. 

Laine,  M.,  French  Consul,  482. 

Laing,  David,  263,  333,  389. 

Laing-Meason,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gilbert,  571 
and  n.,  579. 

Laird's  Jock,  328  n. 

Lambeth,  548. 

Landseer,  Edwin,  420 ;  picture  of  dogs, 
75,  76,  323 ;  "  Study  at  Abbotsford," 
351,  353. 

Lang,  Andrew,  Sheriff -Clerk  for  Selkirk- 
shire, 355,  526  and  n. 

Andrew,  LL.D.,  526  n.,  598. 

Lansdowne,  Marquis  of,  251,  293,  335; 
Scott  dines  with,  382,  383. 

Lardner,  Dr.,  454,  456,  462,  474,  475, 
484. 

Latin,  Scottish  pronunciation  of,  257. 

Latouche,  Mrs.  Peter,  496,  503. 

Lauder,  Sir  T.  Dick,  425,  470  and  n. 

Laughter,  natural  and  forced,  39. 

Laurie,  Sir  Peter,  385. 

Lauriston,near  Edinburgh,  196,325  and  n. 

Marquis  de,  1 96. 

Law  as  a  profession  in  Scotland,  23,  24. 

Lawrence,  Captain,  556. 

Sir  Thomas,  182,  184,  185, 198,  302, 

387 ;  portrait  of  Scott,  203,  254. 

Lebzeltern,  Countess  de,  574. 

Leicester,  Earl  of,  397. 

Le  Noir,  M.,  10. 

Leopold,  Prince,  395. 

Leslie,  C.  R.,  76 ;  his  portrait  of  Scott, 
48  and  n. 

Lessudden  House,  487,  503. 

Letters,  arrangement  of,  286. 

Levis,  Duke  de,  448  and  t>. 

Lewis,  M.  G.,  5,  386 ;  Lewis  and  Sheri- 
dan, 60  n. ;  Journal,  309. 

—  Mr.,  method    of   improving   hand- 
writing, 145. 

Leyden,  John,  141,  227. 
Lhonane  qui  cherche,  118,  243. 
Library,  enchanted,  204,  440. 
Liddell,  Dr.,  562,  570. 

—  Hon.  Henry,  301,  533,  547. 

—  Misses,  304. 
Light  come,  light  go,  67. 
Lilliard's  Stone,  254  and  n. 


612 


INDEX 


Lions  in  Edinbuugh,  144,  231 ;  "  Lions," 
412. 

Lister,  T.  H.,  Qranby,  106 

Listen,  Sir  Robert,  408. 

Literary  Society,  386. 

Litigation  in  the  Sheriff  Courts,  31. 

Liverpool,  Lord,  175,  202,  236. 

Livingstone,  Rev.  Mr.,  418. 

Llandaff,  Bishop  of,  393. 

Loch,  Mrs.,  161. 

John  and  James,  397,  400,  443. 

Locker,  E.  H.,  175  and  n.,  185  and  n. 

Lockhart,  John  G.,  1,  21,  247,  249,  263, 
274,  296,  301,  315  n.,  319,  327,  330, 
359,  363,  377,  379,  385,  390,  392,  393, 
399,  409,  415,  416,  420,  461,  473,  481, 
489  and  n.,  490,  547,  550,  585 ;  the 
Quarterly  Review \  14-16;  BlackwoocTs 
Magazine,  16-18;  parting  entertain- 
ment, 22;  London,  22;  Scott's  confi- 
dence in  and  affection  for,  26 ;  Mala- 
chi,  91,  110;  on  Sir  Walter's  style, 
116  ;  Hook,  198  and  n. ;  Scott's  letter, 
home  politics,  250  n. ;  Hogg,  256  ;  ac- 
count of  Gillies,  264  ;  Portobello,  269 
and  n. ;  Abbotsford,  285,  287;  Kelso, 
291 ;  Garrick  papers,  330  and  11. ; 
Brighton,  393 ;  Life  of  Burns,  402 ; 
Auchinrath,  418;  Edinburgh,  418; 
Dalkeith,  420 ;  Stewart  papers,  424 ; 
letter  from  Scott  regarding  illness, 
Feb.  1820,  488  n. ;  Chiefswood,  492; 
Hogg,  528  and  n. ;  accompanies  Scott 
to  Douglas,  544,  545. 

Mrs.,  15,  21,  22,  31, 33,  99.  101, 127 ; 

birth  of  a  son  Walter,  117;  Abbots- 
ford,  282,  340;  birth  of  a  girl,  342; 
Brighton,  382,  553. 

J.  Hugh  (the  Hugh  Littlejohn  of 

the  Tales  of  a  Grandfather),  21,  22, 
101,  141,  179,  200,  274,  383,  395,  396, 
407,  473,  476,  483,  489,  492 ;  death, 
574  and  n. 

Walter  Scott,  117 ;  death,  127  and 

n.,  483. 

Charlotte,  489  and  n. 

— —  Dr.  and  Mrs.,  502. 

Lawrence,  295. 

Richard,  24 ;  death  of,  258. 

William,  22,  178,  184,  418,  426. 

William  Elliot,  401  and  n.,  626. 

Logan's  Sermons  and  Poems,  13  and  «., 
109. 

Londesborough,  Lord,  452  n. 

London,  Scott's  visit  to,  in  October,  1 826, 
179-185;  in  November,  1826,  197- 
204;  in  April,  1828,  377-400;  in  Sep- 
tember, 547:  October,  1831,  547. 


Londonderry,  second  Marquis  of,  190, 
286;  Memoirs,  311. 

Third  Marquis  of,  302,  303,304, 311, 

390,  549. 

Fourth  Marques  of,  307. 

Lady  Emily,  388. 

Longman  &  Co.,  Woodstock,  114;  Ameri- 
can Copyright,  201 ;  Napoleon,224,  227, 
274 ;  St.  Ronarfs  Well,  344 ;  Encyclo- 
pedia, 450 ;  copyright  of  poetry,  464 ; 
agrees  to  sell  poetry,  469;  sale  com- 
pleted, 479. 

Lothian,  Marquis  of,  302,  305,  306,  307, 
360,  419. 

Louvre,  the,  188. 

Lovaine,  Lord,  459. 

Low,  Alexander,  History  of  Scotland,  493 
and  n. 

Lowndes,  399. 

Lucy,  Sir  Thomas,  376. 

Luscar,  494. 

Lushington,  Mr.,  584. 

Luttrell,  Henry,  182. 

Lyndhurst,  Lord,  175,  250. 

Lyons  of  Gattonside,  441. 

Lyttelton,  W.  H.,  393. 

M'ALLISTER,  GKNERAL,  278. 

Maeatilay'.s  History  of  St.  Kilda,  419 
and  n, 

MacBarnet,  Mrs.,  373. 

M'Cormick,  Dr.,  497. 

M'Crie,  Dr.  Thomas,  on  Old  Mortality, 
540  n. 

Macclesfield,  205. 

Macculloch,  David,  of  Ardwell,  5  and  n., 
155,  223. 

James,  462. 

Macdonald,  L.,  sculptor,  516. 

Mareschal,  76  n.,  193,  195. 

Macdonell  of  Glengarry,  76  and  n.,  77. 

Macdougal,  Celtic  Society,  61. 

Macduff  Club,  477.     See  Blair- Adam. 

Macduff's  Castle,  266. 

Mackay,  Mr.,  from  Ireland,  356,  357. 

Makay,  Rev.  Dr.  Macintosh,  354  and  n., 
355,  409,  426,  464,  465,  469,  452; 
Cluny  Macpherson's  papers,  354  ;  Irish 
MS.,  465  and  n. 

MacKenzie,  Captain,  72d  Regiment,  308. 

Mackenzie,  Colin,  of  Portmore,  4  n.,  9,  53, 
56,  80,  85,  89,  95,  114,  270,  271,  309, 
493;  character,  21;  family,  141;  son 
of,  204  ;  new  academy,  275  ;  illness, 
331 ;  Deputy  Keeper  of  Signet,  retire- 
ment from  office,  346,  427  ;  death,  501 
and  n. ;  lines  by,  546. 

Hay,  of  Cromarty,  533. 


INDEX 


613 


Mackenzie,  Henry,  27 ;  sketch  of,  23  ;  his 

edition  of  Home's  Works,  243 ;   death, 

516. 

Lord,  135  and  n.,  169,  407. 

Sutherland,  321. 

William,  267. 

—  Mrs.  Stewart,  407. 
Mackenzie's  Hotel,  519. 
Mackintosh,  Sir  James,  72,  379, 447,  450, 

452. 

Maclachan,  Mrs.  and  Miss  Bell,  522. 
M'Laurin,  Colin,  493. 
Macleod,  Lord,  553. 

Alex.,  advocate,  358. 

Mrs.,  553. 

M'Nab  of  that  Ilk,  240  and  n. 

Macpherson,  Captain,  373. 

Cluny,  papers,  354,  363,  364 ;  visit 

to  Edinburgh  Castle,  436,  443,  464. 
Macqueen,  Robert.     See  Braxfield. 
Macturk,  Captain,  of    St.  Ronan's   Well, 

317. 
Magnum  Opus   prospectus   issued,  434, 

435 ;  printing  of  the,  454 ;  success  of, 

460,  467,  468  and  n. ;  Twentieth  vol. 

issued,  507. 
Malion,  Lord,  388  n. 
Maida,  the  deer-hound  and  the  artists,  48, 

107,  392  n.,  573. 

Maitland,  Frederick,  capture    of    Bona- 
parte, 93,  96  and  «. 

Miss,  472  n. 

Club,  434. 

Makdougall,  Lady  Brisbane,  163. 
Malachi  Malagrowther,  letters,  80,  81,  82 

and  n.,  87,  89-98,  103. 
Malcolm,  Sir  John,  202,  552,  553  and  n. 
Malta,  552,  565,  570. 
Maltby,  Dr.,  385,  391. 
Manchester,  205,  531. 

Duke  of,  394. 

Mandrin's  Memoirs,  66  and  n. 

Mansfield,  236. 

Mar,  Earl  of,  299. 

Marjoribanks,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.,  399. 

Marmion,  copyright  of,  470,  473. 

Marmont,  Marshal,  195. 

Marshall,  Mr.,  557. 

Marshman,  Dr.,  Serampore   missionary, 

227  and  n. 
Martin,  Davie,  418. 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  portraits,  8 ;  and 

Elizabeth,  31. 

Masaniello,  458,  572  n.,  596. 
Matheson,  Peter,  148  and  n. 
Mathews,  Charles,  Comedian,  31,  38 ;  Ab- 

botsford,  49,  50,  51  and  n. 
C.  J.,  49  and  n. 


Matutinal  inspiration,  72,  523. 

Maxwells,  the,  136. 

Maxpopple.     See  Scott  of  Raeburn. 

Maywood,  Mr.,  263. 

Meadowbank,  Lord,  449,  537. 

Meason,  Mr.     See  Laing-Meason. 

Meath,  Earl  of,  and  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, 322,  389. 

Medwyn,  Lord,  85,  144  and  n.,  257,  446 
n.,  496,  520. 

Meleager,  story  of,  683. 

Melville,  Lord  and  Lady  (second  Vis- 
count), 4,  9,  10,  16,  94,  95,  133,  147, 
175,  198,  201,  250,  293,  317,  321,  379, 
395,  397,  498 ;  Mrs.  Grant's  pension, 
18,  19;  Malachi,  94;  Roxburgh  elec- 
tion, 115;  colleges  in  Scotland,  168 ; 
Bannatyne  Club,269;  resignation,  275, 
276  ;  reappointment,  276  n. ;  fall  from 
his  horse,  320. 

Sir  James,  Memoirs,  241  and  n.,  262, 


263. 
Menzies,  John,  of    Pitfoddles,   226,  227 

and  n.,  384. 
Mertoun,  116, 149,  215,  290,291,  308,  310, 

345. 

Methodists,  64,  65. 
Meyersdorff,  Baron  A.  von,  442. 
Mildert,  Dr.  William  Van,  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, 302  and  n. 
Miller.  Mr.,  377. 

Archibald,  W.  S.,  481. 

Miller's,  General,  South  American  War, 

474  and  n. 

Mills,  Scott's  feeling  regarding,  232. 
Milman,  Dean,  549. 
Miln,  Miss,  166. 
Milne,  Sir  David,  321. 

—  Nicol,  309,  487,  577  n. 

N.,  jun.,  173,  369. 

Rev.  Mr.,  Quebec,  513,  514. 

Milton,  miniature  of,  by  Cooper,  178. 
Minstrelsy   of   the    Scottish   Border,  89 

and  n. 

Minto,  Gilbert,  first  Earl  of,  sketch,  40, 4 1 . 
second   Earl,   40,    149,    155; 


Abbotsford,  176,  228,  229,  230,  233, 
234,  279,  383,  384. 

Dowager  Lady,  279. 

Minute  Philosophers,  40. 

Mirbel,  Madame,  192, 193, 194, 195,442  n. 

Misfortune  sometimes  convenient,  110. 

"Misfortune's  growling  bark,"  123. 

Mitchell,  Mr.,  Greek  master,  Academy, 
275. 

Moir,  D.  M.  (Delta),  lines  on  Leslie's  pict- 
ure, 211  n. 

Moira,  Lord,  214. 


INDEX 


Mole,  Monsieur  de,  196. 
Moncreiff,  James,  212  and  n. 
Monmouth,   Duke    and    Duchess    of,  at 

Moor  Park,  400. 
"  Mons  Meg,"  28,  430  and  «.,  433,  434, 

436,  659. 
Montagu,  Lord  and  Lady,  67, 113  and  n., 

115,  172,  443,663,  554. 
Lady  Elizabeth  (Dowager  Duchess 

of  Buccleuch),  321  and  n. 
Monteath's  Planter  reviewed,  290  and  n. 
Monteith's,  Earls  of,  gardeners,  411. 
Monypenny,  Alexander,  trustee,  52  n. 

David.     See  Pitmilly. 

Moore,  Thomas,  1 1 8   and   n.,  395,  403 ; 

characterised,  5,  6 ;  regard  for  Scott,  6 

n,  •  anecdotes  of  Byron,  71,  72  and  n. ; 

breakfast  with  Scott,  184,296  n. ;  Life 

of  Byron,363 ;  visit  to  Hampton  Court, 

398;  Scott  sends  Byron's  letters,  416, 

450 ;  letter  to  Scott, "4 74  and  n. 
"  Morbus,"  the,  112. 
More,J.  S.,  134. 

Mrs.  Hannah,  Memoirs,  139. 

Morgan's,  Lady,  O'Donnel,  99  and  n. 

Morpeth,  Lord,  191,  195. 

Morritt,  John   B.   S.,   of    Rokeby,   67; 

Scott's  visit  to,  177  and  n.,  178  and  n. ; 

London  dinner  party,  381,  382 ;  Scott's 

visit   to,  402;    Abbotsford,  415,  424 ; 

letter  to  Scott,  505  n. 
Morton,  Earl  and  Countess  of,  360  and  n., 

406. 

Moscheles,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  347,  848,  349. 
Moscow,  burning  of,  285. 
Mother  Goose's  Tales,  575,  598. 
Mottoes,  for   Woodstock,  104 ;  for  Count 

Robert,  519  and  n. 

Mount  Benger,  Hogg's  farm,  338  n.,352  n. 
MSS.  Waverley  Novels,  536  and  n. 
Mudford's   Five  Nights    of  St.  Allans, 

473  and  n. 
Munro,  Mr.,  365. 
Mure,  Mrs.,  of  Caldwell,  anecdote,  51. 

of  Auchendrane's  trial,  405. 

Murray,  Andrew,  163. 

Dr.,  Oxford,  133  n. 

Lord  James,  269. 

Lady  Caroline,  427. 

Sir  George,  409. 

James  Wolfe  (Lord  Cringletie),  211 

«.,  360. 
John  A.,  85  and  «.,  146  and  n.,  208, 

210,  230  and  n.,  241,  247,  274,  427, 

482. 

Mrs.  John  A.,  349. 

John,  publisher,  14,  15,  330,   378, 

380,  387,  470,  473,  570. 


Murray,  John,  jun.,  of  Alberaarle  Street, 

228. 
Sir  Patrick,  of  Ochtertyre,  69  and 

M.,  424,  468,  475,  481. 

Peter,  of  Simprin,  85. 

William,    Henderland,    146,     208, 

210. 

W.  H.,  Theatre  Royal,  236  and  n., 


239,  240  n.,  468,  473. 
"  Murder  hole,"  367  n. 
Murthly  House,  499. 
Musgrave,  Captain,  318. 
Music,  25,  282. 
My  Aunt  Margaret1  s  Mirror,  325  and  n., 

328  n.,  378,  383. 
"  My  spinning-wheel  is  auld  and  stiff,"  7. 

Naboclish,  145  and  n. 

Nairne.  Mr.,  435. 

Napier,  Colonel,  403. 

Lord,  511. 

Macvey,  467  n. 

Naples,  670,  579,  584,  585,  587,  589. 

Napoleon,  Life  of,  62 ;  finished  3d  vol., 
136,  166;  vol  v.  commenced,  157; 
swells  to  7  vols.,  165,  173  ;  Longman's 
offer,  175;  vol  vi.  finished,  218;  vol. 
viii.  proposed,  224 ;  Longman's  agree- 
ment, 227 ;  proceeds,  228 ;  Appendix 
to,  259 ;  completion  June  7,  263,  267, 
278  ;  Brussels  reprint,  287  ;  prepara- 
tion for  a  new  edition,  344,  345,  464. 
Maria  Louise:  Lord  Elgin's  anec- 


dotes, 97;   Dr.  Shortt,   233,  303;   on 

the  triple  alliance,  306. 
Napoleon's  last  moments,  89. 
Nares,  Archdeacon,  386. 
Nasmyth,  Mr.,  dentist,  167. 
Navarino,  battle  of,  318. 
"  Nell  Gwynne's  portrait,"  353. 
Nelson,  an  amanuensis,  95,  96,  379. 
Neukomm,  Mr.,  482. 
Newark  Castle,  338. 
Newbery,  Mr.,  343. 
Neweuhams,  the,  28. 
Newton,  Lord,  decision,  281,  295,  299, 

311,  326. 

Gilbert  S.,  R.A.,  76,  182. 

New  Year  reflections,  46,  217,  340,  341, 

415,  612. 

Nicoll,  Dr.,  Principal  of  St.  Andrews,  171. 
Nicol?on,  John,  315  and  n. 

Miss,  392. 

Nimrod,  a  deerhound,  242  and  «.,  454 

and  n. 

Nocera,  two  towns  of,  484  and  ». 
North,  Lord,  389. 
Northampton's,  Lady,  death,  492,  672. 


INDEX 


615 


Northcote,  James,  R.A.,  388,  390  and  n., 

391. 
Northumberland,  Duke  and  Duchess  of 

304  and  n.,  305  and  n.,  306,  388,  550. 
Nuncomar,  Rajah,  392. 

O'CALLAGHAN,  HON.  SIR  ROBKRT,  18,  332. 
Oil  Gas  Company,  4  and  n.,  27,  28,  232, 

259,  264,  267,  319,  320,  330,  406. 
Old  Mortality,  540  n. 
Oliphant,  Mrs.,  322. 
Olonyne,  Count,  10. 
Oran,  562. 
Ormiston,  Bell,  372. 
Ormsby,  Mrs.,  376. 
Osborne,  Lord  Sydney,  477. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.,  556. 

Owen,  Mrs.,  201. 
Oxenfoord  Castle,  258,  413. 
Oxford,  203. 

PAESTUM,  579. 

Paley,  Mr.,  291. 

Palgrave,  Sir  Francis,  185  and  n.,  228. 

Palliser,  Sir  Hugh,  428. 

Palmerston,  Lord,  293,  533. 

Pantellaria,  565. 

Papers  mislaid,  23. 

Paris,  1826,  186-196. 

Parker,  Miss,  399. 

Parkgate,  159,  160. 

Parr,  Dr.,  177. 

Parry,  Captain,  379. 

Pasta,  Madame,  319. 

Paterson,  Dr.  N.,  535  and  n. 

R.  (Old  Mortality),  535  n. 

Walter,  535  n. 

"  Patience,  cousin,  and  shuffle  the  cards," 

28. 
Patterson,  David,  447. 

John  Brown,  316  n. 

PauVs  Letters  to  his  Kinsfolk,  197  and  n., 

332. 

"  Pearling  Jean,"  245  n. 
Peel,  Right  Hon.  Sir  Robert,  200,  201, 

202,  203,  250,  276,  395,  409,  436,  489, 

547  ;  Chantrey's  bust  of  Scott,  394  n. 
Penrith,  205,  374. 
Pentland  Hills,  admiration  of,  317. 
Pepys'  Diary,  review  of,  in  Quarterly,  43 

and  n.,48,  52,115  and  n. 
Perceval,  Mr.,  214,  215. 
Percy,  Captain,  459. 
Percy's,  Wi\\\&m,pl<ty*,  300. 
"  Percy's  Cross,"  cottages  at,  306. 

" Leap,"  306. 

Pescara,  Marquis  di,  tomb  of,  385. 
Peterborough,  life  of,  451  and  n. 


Petrie,  H.,  228. 

Pettigrew,  Dr.,  385. 

Pettycur,  266. 

Philips,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  275,  288. 

Sir  George,  381,  392. 

Phillips,  Sir  Richard,  230. 

Phillpotts,  Dr.,  Dean  of  Chester,  380  and  n. 

Phipps,  Mrs.,  389,  390. 

Pickering,  W.,  393,  398. 

Pigot,  Captain,  553,  554,  556,  557,  563, 

567. 

Pinkie  House,  351. 
Piozzi,  Mrs.,  422,  516  and  n. 
Piper,  Mr.,  mail  contractor,  489. 
Pirate's  heaven,  61. 
Pitcairn,  Robert,  454  and  it. 
Pitmilly,  Lord,  80  and  «.,  253  and  n.,  481. 
Pitsligo,  Lord,  449. 
Pitt,  Mr.,  380. 

William,  letters  of,  397,  398. 

Planta,  Joseph,  284  and  n. 

Plantations  at  Abbotsford,  110, 116, 121. 

Platoff,  191. 

Playfair,  John,  burial-place,  59,  68  and  n. 

Plays,  Old,  Hector  of  Germany,  etc.,  153. 

Pleydell,  Paul,  460  n.,  495  and  n. 

Plunkett,  Lord,  12  n. 

Plymouth,  557. 

Pole,  Mr.  Frederick,  56  and  n. 

Politics,  interest  in,  80. 

Pompeii,  578,  579,  584. 

Ponsonby,  Mr.,  and  Lady  Sarah,  307,  391, 

395. 

Hon.  Miss,  374  n. 

Pontey,  William,  535. 

Pontine  Marshes,  589. 

Porchester's,  Lord,  Poems,  9  and  n. 

"Portuous  Roll,"  115  n. 

Portland,  Bill  of,  547. 

Portsmouth,  554,  555. 

Potocki,  Le  Comte  Ladislaus  de,  503. 

Potocki'a  Manuscrit  trouve  d  Saraqosse, 

295. 

Powis,  Earl,  386  and  n. 
Preston,  Sir  Robert,  495. 
Prestonpans,  visit  to,  497. 
Primrose,  Lady,  378. 
Prince's  Street  Gardens,  Edinburgh,  259, 

413. 

Pringle,  John,  Rector  of  Fogo,  369. 
Alexander,  of  Whytbank,  254,  515, 

525,  526,  539. 
Alexander,  junior,  of  Whytbank,  30, 

166,174. 

James  Torwoodlee,  118  and  n.,  221, 


372,  525,  526. 

—  George,  of  Torwoodlee,  371,  372. 

—  Sir  John,  345,  353,  510. 


616 


INDEX 


Pringle,  John,  of  Clifton,  174,  220. 

junior,  of  Haining,  death,  540. 

Mrs.  Haining,  463. 

Thomas,  185  and  n. 

Captain,  Battle   of   Waterloo,  243, 

424. 

Major,  510,511. 

Pringles  of  Stitchel,  512. 

of  Yair,  244, 289. 

Prisons,  356,  357. 

Procter,  Bryan  Waller,  143. 

Proud  foot,  Oliver,  358. 

Prudhoe,  Lord,  550. 

Psalmody,  Scottish,  270  and  n.,  466  and  n. 

Purdie,  Tom,  52;  "S.  W.  S.,"  71  n.,  100, 

107,  121,  156,  167,  242,  243,  244,  250, 

273,  281,  285,  288,  337,  363,  443,  484  ; 

death  of,  486. 
Purgstall,  Countess,  155. 

QUEENSBERRY,  WlLLIAM  DOUGLAS,  fourth 

Duke  of  ("Old  Q."),  12  «.,  159  and  n. 

Duchess  of,  Catherine  Hyde,  160  n. 

Quillinan,  Mrs.,  392. 

RAE,  SIR  WILLIAM,  9  and  n.,  53  n.,  231,  294 
n.,  317,  424,  481,  489. 

Lady,  132. 

Raeburn,  Sir  Henry,  his  portrait  of  Scott 
given  to  Mr.  Skene,  87  n. ;  portrait  of 
Scott  for  Lord  Montagu,  138  n. ;  por- 
trait for  Constable  at  Dalkeith,  211, 
220 ;  portrait  now  at  Abbotsford, 
616  n. 

Lady,  149. 

Raine's,  St.  Cwthbert,  277  n. 

Rammohun  Roy,  553  and  «. 

Ramsay,  Allan,  and  the  Edgewell  tree, 
461  and  n. 

Dean,  127  and  n. 

Lord.     See  Dalhousie. 

Wardlaw,  420,  423. 

of  Barnton,  431. 

Ravens  worth,  Lord,  301. 

Castle,  301-304. 

Redding  up,  118. 

Redgauntlet,  523. 

Rees,  Owen,  181,  282,  468,  469,  470. 

Reform  Bill,  525,  526,  529,  534,  547-549. 

Remside  Moor,  306. 

Remusat,  Charles  de,  267  and  n. 

Count  Paul  de,  267  and  n. 

Rennie,  Sir  John,  226  and  n. 

Renton,  Mr.,  393. 

Resignation  of  office  as  Clerk  of  Ses- 
sion, 508. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  178  and  n.  .  391 ; 
Earl  of  Rothes'  Portrait,  426,  439. 


Reynolds,  Mr.  (7%«  Keepsake),  355,  361, 
367,  381,  383,  393,  449,  452,  458. 

Rice,  Mr.  Spring  (afterwards  Lord  Mont- 
eagle),  395. 

Richardson,  John,  visit  to  Abbotsford 
and  fishing  adventure,  292  and  n.,  318, 
448;  letter  from,  to  Scott,  454  n.  • 
Claverhouse,  540. 

Riddel!,  Colonel,  449. 

Thomas,  116. 

Riddoch,  Mr.,  of  Falkirk,  98. 

Rigby,  Miss.     See  John  A.  Murray. 

Robbins,  Mr.,  374. 

Robertson,  Patrick,  170  and  n. 

Robinson  (of  H.  &  R.),  315,  318. 

Robison,  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir  John),  416. 

Rob  Roy  at  the  Theatre  Royal.  364. 

Robson's  Essay  on  Heraldy,  525. 

Roche,  Sir  Boyle,  dream  of,  145  n. 

Rodger,  Mr.  Peter,  510. 

Rogers,  Samuel,  182,  202,  378,  379,  380, 
518 ;  advice  to  Moore,  6  n. ;  breakfast, 
184,  199,  201;  Holland  House,  394; 
Hampton  Court,  398,  399. 

Rokeby,  177,  402. 

Rolland,  Adam,  Clerk  of  Session,  460, 
461,  494. 

Adam,  of  Gask,  460  «.,  495  and  n. 


Rollo,  Lord,  91. 
Rome,  587,  589. 
Rose,  Sir  George,  263,  360. 

William  Stewart,  anecdote  of   By- 


ron, 7,  8,  17,  18 ;  his  Ariosto,  182  and 

n, ;  at  Stratford,  375  ;  Brighton,  395, 

396  n. 

Ross,  Dr.  A.,  224,  417,  428,  469,  509. 
Rossiter,  N.  T.,  539. 
Rothes,  Lady,  472. 
Roxburghe  Club,  300,  386,  393. 
Royal  Academy,  London,  387. 

Literary  Society,  256,  571  and  n. 

Society,  Edinburgh,  dinner,  23,  208, 

231,  326,  416,  417;    new  rooms,  426, 

427,  433. 

Ruling  passion,  140,  141. 
Russel,    Alexander,   anecdote    told    by, 

224  n. 
Russell,  Claud,  9. 

Dr.  James,  23  and  n.,  326,  363. 

Lord  John,  on  Moore,  6  n.,  380. 

John,  225  n.,  354. 

Major-General  Sir  James,  of  Ashes- 

tiel,  19  and  n.,  20,  30,  47,48,  106,  150, 

210,  249,  255,  256,  287,  370,  443,  512, 

515,  525,  537. 

Lord  Wriothesley,  325. 

Misses,  46,  61,  297. 


Rutherford,  Rev.  John,  of  Yarrow,  369. 


INDEX 


617 


Kutherfurd,John,  of  Edgerstoun,  353. 

Dr.,  451. 

Lord,  in  the  Bride  of  Lammermoor, 

472  n. 

Captain  Robert,  94. 

• Robert,  19,  210,  297. 

William,  295. 

Miss  C.,  67. 

Ruthven,  Lord  and  Lady,  40,  531  and  n. 
Rutty,  J.,  diary,  45. 

ST.  AGATHA,  589. 

St.  Andrews,  visit  to,  in  1827,  265. 

St.  Boswell's  Fair,  149. 

St.  Cuthbert's  remains  at  Durham,  277. 

St.  Giles,  Edinburgh,  325  n. 

St.  Mary's  Loch,  159. 

St.  Monans,  266. 

St.  Paul's,  Dean  of,  381. 

St.  Ronan's  Well,  Scott's  opnion  of,  1 50 ; 
Macturk  in,  317,  320;  new  edition  re- 
quired, 343  ;  dramatised,  473. 

Saint  Roque,  561. 

Saint  Thomas  Aquinas,  tomb  of,  585. 

Saladin's  shroud,  321  n. 

Salerno,  581. 

Samothracian  Mysteries,  382. 

Sanctuary,  the,  313  and  «.,  314. 

Sanders,  George  L.,  miniature  of  M.  G. 
Lewis,  5  and  n. 

San  Domenico  Mnggiore,  453. 

Sandford,  Mrs.  Professor,  419. 

Satis  Cullotides,  April  mornings,  119. 

Savary,  H.,  39  and  n. 

Scarlett,  Sir  James  Y.,  38. 

Schut/e,  Mr.,  482. 

Schwab,  Gustavus,  270. 

Schwartzenberg,  191. 

Scott,  Lady,  31,  83  ;  removal  from  Castle 
Street,  92,  98;  illness,  102,  104,  107, 
115-124;  death,  125;  373. 

Miss  Anne,  Scottish  Songs,  25;  char- 
acterised, 36;  retrospect,  37,  74,  125, 
127,  318,  351,  370;  London,  374,  404 
n. ;  Milburn  Tower,  408 ;  Hopetoun 
House,  433;  castle,  437,  443;  Blair- 
Adam,  494,  513,  587. 

Walter,  92,  118,  127-129,  317-319, 

340,  342,  360,  378,  416,  538,  550,  555  ; 
choice  of  a  soldier's  life  24;  15th  Hus- 
sars going  to  India,  46  ;  generous  offer 
from,  64 ;  lines  on  Irish  quarters,  151 ; 
revisits  Abbotsford,  157,  158 ;  at 
Blair-Adam,  161,  163;  Ireland,  164. 
206;  Dalkeith,  211,  213;  Christmas  at 
Abbotsford,  215,  218;  dinner  and 
guests  at  Hampton  Court,  381,  382; 
inflammatory  attack,  461,  462,  463, 


467,  473 ;   wishes  to  preserve  the  li- 
brary, 513. 

Charles,  choice  of  profession,  115; 


arrives  at  Abbotsford,  127,  130,  131, 
149;  Drumlaurig,  158;  Ireland,  164; 
return,  170 ;  Scott's  visit  to  Oxford, 
204,  241,  323,  325,  328,  335,  340; 
Foreign  Office,  354,  378,  385,  416; 
Edinburgh,  475,  480,  512,  587. 

Thomas  and   Mrs.,  5   n.,  116,  205, 

394  n. 

Anne,  niece  of  Sir  Walter,  122,  148, 


154. 

—  Walter,  nephew,  65,  73,  173,  493 
and  n. 

—  Sir  W.,  of  Ancrum,  543,  553. 

—  of  Bierlaw,  443. 

—  of  Gala,  39,  165,  166,  351,  353,  366, 
374,  465,  488,  489,  491. 

—  of  Harden,  66,  105,  108,  113-115, 
117,  122,  133,  139,  155,  170,  220,  234, 
255,  279,  287,  289,  292,  293   and  n., 
308,  310,  322,  331,  341,  387,  391,  405, 
406,  408,  493,  511,  512,  513,  514,  517, 
526,  529,    543. 

—  John,  Midgehope,  285. 

—  Charles,  of  Nesbit  Mill,  169,  449. 
of  Raeburn  (Maxpopple),  103  and 


n.,  121,  155,   167,  176,  254,  255,  328, 

454  and  n.,  459,  460,  481,  487,  503, 

534. 

of  Scalloway,  466. 

of  Woll,  488,  491,  535,  and  n. 

Charles,   grandson   of   Charles   of 

Woll,  285. 

Dr.  of  Haslar  Hospital,  466. 

James,  460. 

Keith,  459. 

James,  a  young  painter,  201. 

Scottish  Nationality,  100. 

Songs  v.  Foreign  Music,  25. 

Scrope,  William,  47,  49,  70,  77,  112,  215, 

219,  220,  246,  247,  255.  277,  278,  281, 

353,  370. 

Seafield,  Lord  Chancellor,  135  n. 
Seaford.    See  Ellis. 
Seaforth,  Lady,  funeral,  434  and  n. 
Search  for  sealing-wax,  118. 
Selkirk,  fifth  Earl  of,  380  n.,  445,  481. 

Lady,  380. 

Club,  166. 

election,  513,  543. 

Sheriff-court  processes,  31. 

Selkirshire  Yeornary  Club  dinner,  369. 
Seton,  Sir  Reginald  Steuart,  of  Staffa, 

359  n. 

Seymour,  Sir  Michael,  556,  557. 
Shakespeare's  house,  376. 


618 


INDEX 


Shandwick  Place,  No.  6,  take  possession 
Nov.  6,  1827,  315. 

Shap  Fells,  drive  over  the,  206. 

Sharp,  Sir  Cuthbert,  372. 

Richard,  161,  182,  185,  378,  380. 

Sharpe,  Charles  Kirkpatrick,  sketched, 
1-3, 77, 144, 325,  379,  406,  408, 426 ;  al- 
terations in  Edinburgh,  219,  270;  resto- 
ration of  "  Mons  Meg,"  436, 496, 652  n. 

Shaw,  Dr.,  141,  184. 

Christian,  369. 

of  Sauchie,  369. 

Shares,  murder  of,  300. 

Shelley,  Lady,  317,  894,  397. 

Sir  John,  392. 

Percy  B.,  8. 

Mrs.,  Frankenstein,  112. 

Shepherd,  Sir  Samuel,  Lord  Chief-Baron, 
34  and  n. ;  sketch  of,  38,  124,  134; 
Blair- Adam,  140,  141,  234,  259 ;  Charl- 
ton,  265,  323,  327,  337,  340 ;  at  Colvin 
Smith's,  349,  351,  383;  Blair- Adam, 
410,  411,  413,  475,494. 

Sheridan,  Rich.  B.,  dull  in  society,  61 ; 
price  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  51 ;  re- 
view of  Life,  111 ;  and  Sharp,  378. 

Tom,  444. 

Sheriff muir  trumpeter,  119. 

Shortreed,  Robert,  115,  168,  253,  458, 
482  and  »». 

(junior),  308,  476. 

Andrew,  254,  255,  397,  400. 

Pringle,  58. 

Thos.,  168  n.,  169. 

Shortt,  Dr.,  232,  233,  238. 

Siddons,  Mrs.  IL,  as  Belvidera,  352,  468, 
473. 

Sidmouth,  Lord,  397,  548. 

Sievwright,  Sir  John,  388. 

Silver  fir,  rapid  growth,  156. 

Simond's  Switzerland,  413. 

Simson,  William,  R.S.A.,  246. 

Sinclair,  Sir  John,  64. 

Lady,  54,  366. 

Misses,  297. 

Master  of,  300,  370. 

Robert,  364. 

Singleton,  Archdeacon,  306  and  n. 

Six-foot-high  Club,  434. 

Skelton,  Mr.,  479. 

Skene,  James  and  Mrs.,  21,  28;  the  Bos- 
wells,  39  n. ;  sketch  of,  47 ;  recollec- 
tions of  Mathews,  51  n.  •  recollections 
of  financial  crisis,  52,  53  n. ;  a  walk  in 
Princes  Street  Gardens,  57,  58  «.,  59, 
60  n.,  75;  proposal  that  Scott  should 
live  with  him,  82,  99;  letter  from 
Scott  on  Lady  Scott's  death,  128  n. ; 


the  whaling  captain,  137  n.,  209,  213, 
218,  228,  232,  257;  note  from  Scott, 
258  n.,  259,  260,  264,  267,  270;  at 
Abbotsford,  286,  309  ;  Lady  Jane  Stu- 
art, 315  n. ;  at  Abbotsford,  339  n., 
400;  Princes  Street  Gardens,  413; 
Abbotsford,  415,  420,  424,  425;  jour- 
nal, 430,  434,  435 ;  Abbotsford,  447, 
449,  464,  466;  the  good  Samaritan, 
471,  475;  sketches  of  Waverley,  476 
and  n.,  496,  501 ;  Raeburn's  portrait 
of  Scott,  516  n.,  519  n.,  520,  637; 
death,  574  and  n. 

Professor  George,  471  n. 

W.  R,  637  and  n. 

Skirving,  Arch.,  artist,  88  and  n. 

Smith,  Colvin,  349,  351  and  n.,  353,  358, 
360,  406,  420,  462,  493. 

Mrs.  Charlotte,  Desmond,  101  and 

n.,  223,  396. 

-• —  Horace,  Brambktye  House,  179, 
180,  352,  556. 

John,  builder,  515,  535  and  n. 

Sydney,  236,  237,  241,  369,  392. 

Mr.,  Foreign  Office,  182. 

Mrs.,  case  of  poisoning,  231,  235. 

Smoking,  7. 

Smollett,  Captain,  18. 

Smythe  of  Methven,  146. 

Solitude,  love  of,  v.  Confinement,  106, 
108,  114. 

Somerset,  Lord  Fitzroy,  386. 

House,  388. 

Somerville,  Lord,  Life  of,  232. 

Dr.  Thos.,  169  and  n. 

Sotheby,  185,  378,  382. 

Southey,  Robert,  the  Quarterly,  14,  17, 
26,  139;  Peninsular  War,  181,  384  n., 
398,  425  n.  •  Pilgrim's  Progress,  499, 
604. 

Soutra,  Johnstones  of,  136. 

Souza-Botelho,  Madame  de,  190  and  n. 

Spectral  appearances  and  illusions,  31. 

Spencer,  Lord,  386,  393. 
Hon.  W.  R.,  191,  193,  257  n. 

Spice,  a  terrier,  279,  629. 

Stafford,  Lord  and  Lady,  31,  199,  267, 
384,  392,  394,  397,  653. 

Stainmore,  177. 

Stanhope,  Spencer,  176. 

Stanhope's  Notes,  306  n. 

Steuart-Denham,  Sir  James,  of  Coltness, 
72  and  n. 

Sir  Henry  Seton,  300,  334,  418. 

Stevenson,  John,  95,  271,  289. 
Patrick  James,  409  n. 


Stewart,  Sir  Charles  and  Lady  Elizabeth, 
184. 


INDEX 


619 


Dugald,  323  n. ;  death  of,  406. 

J.  A.,407n. 

Sir  J.,  of  Murthly,  499. 

James,  of  Brugli,  13. 

Sir  M.  Shaw,  209. 

—  General  David,  of  Garth,  death  of, 
285  and  n. 

Thomas,  254. 

of  Dalguise,  341,  342. 

— —  younger  of  Invernahyle,  427. 
Mrs.,  of  Blackhill,  108. 


Stirling,  General  Graham,  61. 
Stirlings  of  Drumpellier,  278,  279. 
Stoddart,  Dr.,  347. 

Mr.,  552  ». 

Stokoe,  Dr.,  213. 

Stopford,  Lady  Charlotte,  160  and  «,,352. 

Stowell,Lord  (Sir  William  Scott),  398  and 

«.,  558. 

Strange,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  498. 
Strangford,  Lord,  403. 
Stratford-on-Avon,  mulberry  tree   from, 

307  and  n.,  375. 
"  Strict  retreat,"  70. 
Stuart,  General,  of  Blantyre,  275. 

Charles,  Blantyre,  146,  275. 

Hon.  Mr.,  61. 

Mr.,  grand-nephew  of  Lady  Louisa, 

422,  441. 
Sir  John,  of  Fettercairn,   265   n., 

486  n. 

Sir  John,  590. 

James,  of  Dunearn,  39  n.,  421 ;  sale 

of  pictures,  425. 

Sir  James,  Allanbank,  270,415,421, 


424,  426. 
Lady  Jane,  letter  to  Scott,  310  and 

n. ;  an  affecting  meeting,  315  and  n. ; 

old  stories,  317,  328,  416  ;  illness,  431, 

473  and  n, ;  death  of,  486  and  n. 
Lady  Louisa,  68  and  n.,  133,  203, 

441,  549,  550,  553,  586,  587. 
"  Stulko,"  530  and  n. 
Style,  solecisms  in,  117,  118. 
Sunderland,  304. 

Hall,  289. 

Surtees,  Mr.,  157,  158,  164,  170,  174,  203, 

372. 

Susex,  Duke  of,  385. 
Sutherland,  Mr.,  Aberdeen,  456. 
Sutton,  Right  Hon.  Charles  Manners,  200 

and  n. 

Swanston,  John,  103,  156,  288,  513,  514. 
Swift's  handwriting,  299. 
Swinton,   Archibald,    163;    dinner    and 

guests,  211,  285.  321,  360,  365,  367. 
Swinton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George,  48,  258, 

285,  347,  425,  532. 


-  John,  134,  145,  264,  275. 

-  Harriet,  501. 

-  Mrs.  Peggie,  19,  285. 
S.  W.S.,  71  n. 

"  TACE  is  Latin  for  a  candle,"  245  and  n. 
Tait,  Archbishop,  275  n. 

-  Craufurd,  275. 
Talbot,  Miss,  584. 

Tale  of  Mysterious  Mirror,  378. 

Tales  of  Crusaders,  523. 

Tales  of  a  Grandfather,  first  thought  of, 
259;  arranged  with  Cadell,  261,  270; 
progress  of,  277,  299  ;  first  volume  fin- 
ished, 281;  last  proof  corrected,  319; 
request  to  revise,  338  ;  new  edition, 
370;  second  series  begun,  378,  451  ; 
third  series  in  hand,451  ;  France,  511. 

Talleyrand,  184,  554  n. 

Tarn  worth,  375. 

Tangiers,  559. 

Tanueguy  du  Chdtel,  136. 

Tarentum,  Bishop  of,  573. 

Taschereau's  Life  of  Moliere,  342,  345. 

Taylor,  Sir  Herbert,  533. 

-  Jemmy,  467. 

-  Watson,  388. 

"  Teind  Wednesday,"  24  n. 

Temple,  Sir  William,  400. 

Terracina,  490. 

Terry,  Daniel,  124,  145  ;  visit  to  Abbots- 
ford,  150,  153,  165,182,  183,  230  ;  ruin, 
379,400;  illness,476;  death,  483  and  «. 

The  Great  Twalmley,  6. 

Tlieatre  of  God's  Judgments,  327  n. 

-  Royal,  meeting  of  trustees  for,  468. 
Theatrical  Fund  Dinner,  236  and  n.,  237, 

238. 

"  The  grave  the  last  sleep  ?"  257. 
Theobald,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  371. 
Thomas,  Captain,  477  and  n. 
Thomson,  David,  on  Moore,  30. 
-  David,  W.S.,  292. 

—  Rev.  George,  tutor  at  Abbots  ford, 
44  and  n.,  215,  219,  504  n.,  511. 

—  Mr.,  Mrs.,  and  Miss  Anstruther,  of 
Charlton,  246,  265,  338,  340,  410,  411. 

—  Rev.  John,  of  Duddingston,  70,  145, 
247,  353,  361,  410,  411,  494,  544. 

Thomas,  Deputy  Clerk-Register,  40, 


85  and  n.,  89,  133,  145,  146,  233,  241, 
262,  264,  267,  275,  279,  281,  322,  356, 
430,  520  n. 

Thomson's  Tales  of  an  Antiquary,  371. 

Thornhill,  Mr.,  307. 

Colonel,  174;  hawks,  174. 

Thornhill,  Sir  James,  400. 

Thrale,  Mrs.,  202,  399  and  n. 


620 


INDEX 


Thurtell  &  Co.  at  Gill's  Hill,  148  n.,  402 

and  n. 
Ticknor,  George,  of  Boston,  48  n.,  296  n., 

499  n. 

Tighe,  Usher,  423. 
"Tiled  haddock,"  498  and  n.,  600. 
"  Time  must  salve  the  sore,"  63. 
Tod,  Miss,  175. 
Tod's,  Colonel,  Travels  in  Western  India, 

430  n. 
Todd,  Miss,  286. 

Thomas,  170  and  n. 

"Tom  Tack,"  250. 

Tone,  Wolfe,  284. 

Torphichen,  Lady,  364. 

Torre  del  Carmine,  572. 

"  Touch  my  honour,  touch  my  life,"  98 

and  n. 

Townshend/Lord  Charles,  374. 
Trafalgar,  660. 
Train,  Joseph,  452. 
Tran en t,  riots  at,  561. 
Travelling  expenses,  17 90,  contrasted  with 

1826,  205,  206. 
Treuttel  &  Wurtz,  342,  367. 
Tripp,  Baron,  303,  304. 
Trotter,  Coal  Gas  Co.,  365. 

Sir  Coutts,  387. 

Tuilleries,  194. 

Tunis,  565. 

Turner,  Rev.  Mr.,  and  Lord  Castlereagh's 

Memoirs,  311. 

Dr.  516. 

Messrs.,  Malta,  587. 

Turner's  J.  W.,  illustration   to  Poetical 

Works,  534,  536. 
Tweeddale,  Marquis  of,  327,  428. 
Tytler,  Alexander  Fraser,  154  n. 

Mrs.,  of  Woodhouselee,  154,  155. 

Patrick  Eraser,  231  and  n.,488  ;  his 

History  of  Scotland,  438,  450. 

UNION  SCOTTISH  ASSURANCE  Co.,  meeting 

of,  320,  321. 
University  Commission,  168,  213  and  n, 

316  n. 

Upcott,  William,  162. 
Uprouseye  then,  my  merry,  merry  men,  422. 
Utterson,  386. 

VANDKNHOFF,  Mr.  as  Jaffier,  352. 

Van   Mildert,  Bishop   of   Durham,   302 

and  n. 

Vasa,  Prince  Gustavus,  262  and  n. 
Veitch,  James,  449. 
Velletri,  590. 
Venice  Preserved,  352. 
"Ventriloquism,  50. 


Vere,  Hope,  of  Craigiehall,  327,  428. 
Lady  Elizabeth  Hope,  327,  428. 


Verplanck,  Mr.,  263. 

Vesci,  De,  305. 

Vesuvius,  555,  571. 

Vicaria,  the,  578. 

Victoria,  Princess,  295. 

Vienna,  congress  of,  306. 

Views  of  Gentlemen's  Seats,  341. 

Vilhena,  don   Manuel,  Fort  of,  567  and 

n.,  568. 
Volturno,  589. 

WALDIE,  Mr.,  of  Henderland,  166. 
Walker,  engraver  of  Raeburn's  portrait 
of  Scott,  138  and  n.,  261. 

teacher  of  drawing,  88  and  n. 

H,  295. 

of  Muirhouselaw,  254,  and  n. 

Lieut,    (afterwards    Sir    Baldwin), 


564  and  n. 

Sir  Patrick,  463. 

Miss  A.,  295. 

Helen,  tombstone  at  Irongray,  540 

and  n. 

Walker  Street,  No.  3,  Edinburgh,  206  n. 
(from  Nov.  1826,  to  June,  1827). 

Wall  in  "  Pyramus  and  Thisbe,"  12. 

Wallace's  sword,  28. 

Walpole,  Horace,  Historic  Doubts,  239, 
341. 

Walton  &  Cotton's  Angler,  398  n. 

Ward,  R.  Plumer,  261,  273  n. 

Mr.  (Dover),  197. 

Warkworth,  306. 

Warroch,  Mr.,  497. 

Warwick,  Lord  and  Lady,  375. 

Castle,  375. 

Water-cow,  in  the  Highlands,  superstition, 
321,  322  and  n. 

Watson,  Capt.,  471  n.,  536  and  n. 

Wauchope,  Mr.  321. 

Waverley  novels,  plans  for  buying  copy- 
right, 318,  331,  332,  334,  469;  con- 
tinued demand  for,  344  n. 

Weare's  murder,  148  n.,  401. 

Weatherby,  178. 

Weber,  Baron,  123. 

Henry,  amanuensis,  96,  221,  379. 


Wedderburn,  Sir  David,  322. 

Lady  (nee  Brown),  268,  297,  322. 

Weir,  Major,  226. 

Wellesley,  Marquis,  335. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  175,  198,  200,  236, 
240,  247,  250,  270,  335  n.,  340,  342, 
346,  384,  387,  392,  393,  394,  418,  424, 
446  ?).,  465,  547 ;  dinners  and  guests, 
200  seq. ;  Scott's  interviews  with,  in 


INDEX 


621 


London,  203,  227;  Scott's  letter  to, 
234  n.  •  Canning,  276,  287 ,  Ravens- 
worth  Castle,  301  and  n. ;  Baron  Tripp, 
303;  and  Earl  of  Meath,  322;  Lord 
Mahon,  388  n. ;  Catholic  Bill,  425  and  n. 

Wemyss,  Captain,  266. 

Westphalia,  King  of,  589  and  n. 

Whistlecraft,  571. 

White,  Lydia,  185,  199 ;  death,  229,  230 
and  n.,  412,  553. 

Whitmore,  Lady  Lucy,  171. 

Whittingham,  301,  305,  306. 

Whyte,  Miss,  580,  582. 

Widow-burning  in  India,  20. 

Widow  ladies'  requests,  105. 

Wilberforce,  381. 

Wilkie,  Sir  David,  picture  of  king's  ar- 
rival at  Holyrood,  48;  at  Somerset 
House,  76,  420  ;  portrait  for  Magnum, 
432 ;  and  letter  from,  to  Scott,  432  n. 

Williams,  Archdeacon,  271  and  n.,  275, 
290,  354,  360,  408,  410,  413,  519. 

H.  W.  (  "  Grecian  "  ),  88  and  n., 

246. 

Williamson,  W.,  of  Cardrona,  83  n. 

Wilson,  Adam,  213,  477. 

Professor  John,  letter  from  Lock- 
hart,  17  »*.,  227,  296  and  n.,  369. 

Mr.,  of  Wilsontown,  146,  185. 

Sir  Robert,  287. 

R.  Sym,  33. 

Harriet,  Memoirs,  remarks  on,  27. 

Wilton  nuns,  "  go  spin,  your  jades,"  70, 
101,  243. 

Winchelsea,  Lord,  and  Wellington,  443  n. 

Windsor  Castle,  183. 

Wishart's  Monfrose,  346  n. 

"  Wishing-cap,"  power  of,  43. 

Witchcraft,  Joanna  Baillie,  279. 

Withers,  Pope's  epitaph,  79. 

W.,  397. 

\Volcot,  Dr.,  223. 


Wood,  Sir  Alexander,  363. 

John  Philip,  498  and  n. 

Woodstock,  in  progress,  6  and  «.,  45,  46, 
63,  72 ;  2d  vol.  ended,  74,  78,  81,  83, 
93,  102 ;  finished,  105,  106 ;  Longman 
buys,  117;  copyright,  131;  price  of, 
267  n. ;  annotated,  511. 

Wooler,  301,  306. 

Worcester,  205. 

Marquis  of,  385. 


Wordsworth,  William,  176,  217;  anec- 
dote of,  218;  lines  on  Hogg,  296  n. ; 
392,  393,  395,  398  ;  at  Abbotsford,  545, 
547  and  n. 

Miss,  547  and  n. 

Bishop,  547  and  n. 

Wrangham,  Archdeacon,  396. 

Wright,  Sir  John,  290. 

Rev.    Thomas,  of   Borthwick,  336 


and  n. 

W.,  Lincoln's  Inn,  17,  201  and  ».,  203. 
Wyatville,  Mr.,  183. 
Wyun,  Charles,  395. 

YARROW,  excursion  in  August,  1826,  158  ; 

in  December,  1827,  338;  in  May,  1829, 

459  ;  in  July,  1829,  485  ;  in  September, 

1831,  547. 

Yates,  Dr.,  184,395. 
Yelin,  Chevalier,  57,  59. 
Yermoloff,  General,  285. 
Yester,  pictures  at,  328. 
York,  Duke   of,   198,   202,   203;    death, 

219 ;  funeral,  224. 

Cardinal  Duke  of,  481. 

Young,  Alexander,  of  Harburn,  95  and  n. 
Charles   Mayne   as  ^  Pierre,"  352, 

353  and  «. 

—  Dr.,  and  Miss,  Hawick,  379,  501, 

502,  508. 

ZETLAND,  467. 


THE    END. 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  JOURNAL. 

The  Journal  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  1825-1832.  From  the  Original 
Manuscript  at  Abbotsford.  Library  Edition.  With  Two  Por- 
traits and  Engraved  Title-pages.  2  volumes.  8vo,  Cloth,  Uncut 
Edges  and  Gilt  Tops,  $7  50. 

The  "  Journal "  presents  a  varied  and  vivid  picture  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  exist- 
ence during  the  years  in  which  he  kept  it.  Unpublished  letters  from  him  and  oth- 
ers serve  to  illustrate  the  text,  while  extracts  from  the  reminiscences  in  manuscripts 
by  Skene  and  Ballantyne  give  many  interesting  particulars  about  Sir  Walter.  Those 
who  read  the  "  Journal "  will  clearly  understand  what  he  was  as  a  man,  and  such  a 
man  as  he  is  the  more  beloved  the  more  intimately  he  is  known.  He  reveals  him- 
self with  perfect  candor  and  completeness  in  his  "  Journal,"  and  he  appears  even 
greater  in  its  pages  than  in  other  works  from  his  pen  which  are  prized  as  English 
classics. — London  Times. 

No  memorial  of  any  British  man  of  letters  which  has  been  published  in  the  last 
quarter  of  a  century,  and  several  of  considerable  importance  have  been  published 
during  that  time,  can  be  said  to  approach,  in  the  interest  that  it  creates  in  reading, 
and  in  the  affectionate  hold  that  it  has  in  memory,  "  The  Journal  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott." — N.  Y.  Mail  and  Express. 

It  is  more  interesting  and  more  invigorating  than  is  Lockhart's  work  itself.  No 
biographer  intrudes  with  his  pity  or  grows  dull  with  his  comments.  It  discloses  an 
episode,  as  it  were,  but  it  discloses  it  unreservedly  and  transparently.  It  speaks 
without  restraint.  It  is  full  of  the  buoyancy  and  sturdiness  which  are  the  very 
spirit  and  substance  of  its  indomitable  author. — N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

A  rare  revelation  of  the  noble  character  of  one  of  the  world's  great  men.  In  an 
utterly  simple,  unconscious  way,  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  a  veritable  hero,  and  this  jour- 
nal, written  in  his  last  years,  is  chiefly  valuable  for  conclusively  proving  this  fact. — 
Literary  World,  Boston. 

The  manner  in  which  the  "  Journal "  has  been  prepared  for  publication  deserves 
hearty  praise.  Mr.  Douglas  is  a  conscientious  and  competent  editor,  and  he  has 
supplied  all  the  notes  which  are  required  for  elucidating  the  text  without  making 
a  parade  of  superfluous  learning.  .  .  .  This  final  work  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  is  as  in- 
structive and  welcome  as  any  which  he  penned. — Athenceum,  London. 

This  is  such  a  book  as  the  world  has  not  often  seen.  .  .  .  These  two  impressive 
volumes  contain  one  of  the  most  effective  pictures  of  a  really  strong  man,  painted 
as  only  that  man  himself  could  have  painted  it,  which  the  English  language  con- 
tains. .  .  .  This  book  is  one  of  the  greatest  gifts  which  our  English  literature  has 
ever  received. — Spectator,  London. 

A  better  tempered,  less  morbid  diary  never  was  published.  ...  No  extracts  can 
do  justice  to  the  book  as  a  whole — to  the  manly,  cheerful,  tender  spirit  of  the  man. 
These  two  volumes  are  worth  a  library  full  of  the  literary  Dryasdusts  who  generally 
write  journals. — N.  Y.  Herald. 

Certainly  all  who  read  these  volumes  will  rise  from  their  perusal  with  a  deepened 
admiration  for  one  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  men. — Pall  Matt  Gazette,  London. 

The  "  Journal,"  as  it  stands,  is  full  of  interesting  glimpses  into  the  great  author's 
mind,  and  reveals,  in  a  striking  manner,  the  inextinguishable  buoyancy  with  which 
he  encountered  misfortune,  the  iron  perseverance  with  which  he  set  himself  to  clear 
away  the  mountain  of  debt  with  which  he  found  himself  burdened  when  his  best  years 
had  passed,  the  keen  sense  of  honor  and  duty  which  marked  even  his  most  private 
communings  with  himself,  and  the  gay  humor  which  characterized  him  whenever  the 
clouds  parted  for  a  moment  and  permitted  the  sunshine  to  pass.  ...  It  is  indeed 
a  valuable  contribution  to  our  knowledge  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. — N.  Y.  Tribune. 


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